


Seize the Dawn

by samariumwriting



Series: Seize the Dawn [1]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fairy Tale Elements, Friendship, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Slow Burn, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Trans Characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:21:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 30,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29538153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samariumwriting/pseuds/samariumwriting
Summary: Dedue knows two things about Faerghus: it is cursed, and he should never go there.He never intended to, either. But when a strange figure shows up on his doorstep, badly injured and barely clinging to life, he takes him in. When the man asks Dedue to go on a quest with him to save his Kingdom from a shadowy tyrant known only as the Dusk King, he accepts.Their task is to free Dimitri's friends from the curse that traps them in an eternal dusk; it begins an adventure Dedue can never turn back from.[Updates weekly on Thursdays!]
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Dedue Molinaro
Series: Seize the Dawn [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2170050
Comments: 10
Kudos: 17
Collections: Dimidue Big Bang 2021





	1. You of the Dusk

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my Dimidue big bang fic!! Participating in this was a ton of fun and I'm really excited to share what I have with everyone, whether you're here during the bb or after it ends.
> 
> I worked with the wonderful [@Cebrys_](https://twitter.com/Cebrys_), who produced an absolutely BEAUTIFUL [artwork](https://twitter.com/Cebrys_/status/1362460502014705665?s=20) to go along with the final chapter of this fic. It'll be embedded in the fic at the relevant point too!
> 
> Thank you to the mods of the event (who did a wonderful job organising things), my boyfriend for brainstorming the fic with me, and Cy ([@possiblevoid](https://twitter.com/possiblevoid)) for being a fantastic beta reader. This fic wouldn't be what it is without your efforts!!

_ “You of the dusk: _ _   
_ _ Reach out your hand, _ _   
_ _ Hold on to your courage, _ _   
_ _ And stick to your plans. _ _   
_ _ Your friends are waiting _ _   
_ _ For you to awake. _ _   
_ _ We know you can do it; _ _   
_ _ Eternal dusk, abate.” _ _   
_ _ —Traditional Faerghan nursery rhyme; origin unknown.  _

Dedue knew two things about the so-called Holy Kingdom of Faerghus: it was cursed, and he should never go there.

Still, he watched the umber horizon as he wrapped up his tasks for the day. Just beyond the forest lay the Kingdom - no one else lived as close as he did, but Dedue had always felt drawn to the place. Maybe it was just because he'd liked the stories for as long as he could remember.

He pulled his eyes away as he hefted the watering can off the ground. By this time, the water would be warm enough not to shock the plants, though he regretted filling it quite so much. Despite his steady steps, a little of the water sloshed out, splashing his feet. It was warm; almost welcome against the skin of his forearms and bare ankles.

The garden looked as it always did, bright and healthy. It filled him with no small amount of pride to see them like this, to take a few items from the branches each day and move on. There was an easy, practised confidence to this part of his routine; he knew plants better than anything.

With his food for the next day collected and left to soak in a basin of water, Dedue went to extinguish the fire in the stove. He'd light it once more when he woke again, but with his home made of wood and no one else for miles around, he didn't want to take any chances. There were no corners that could be cut, living out here on his own.

Finally, he went out to the fence that surrounded his little plot. He didn't worry about theft, and if anyone was far enough out of the Duscan towns he would gladly feed them (though it was, admittedly, yet to happen), but the loose rectangle provided... something. Dedue had heard, from somewhere, that boars could cross the border from Faerghus, and who knew what they'd do if they found his cabbage patch.

Either way, just as the day before, there were no holes in the fence, and no damage. The paint remained the same as always: a little chipped, a little worn, but with no sign of rot setting in at the base or edges. He was secure for another day.

The sun still hadn't quite vanished as Dedue settled down under the blankets, but he didn't mind. The warm light was familiar, comforting, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

His eyes sliding closed, Dedue could admit to himself that he wouldn't have  _ anything  _ any other way. Despite the daily back and forth of his life, everything being the same day in and day out, he was content here. There was a peace to it he didn't think any could deny.

* * *

That very same peace was shattered only the next night. As Dedue wandered his little plot of land, counting the planks of the fence, he heard a sound from the forest. Something loud; the thundering of footsteps, accompanied by the crackle of branches underfoot. Normally, the only sound that interspersed his day was the call of birds or the chirp of crickets.

This was different. This was something larger.

Dedue tensed as he squinted into the low, dusty light of the trees. He couldn't see anything, not yet, but the sound got closer and closer, ever more irregular as it did, until finally-

A person. A young man, perhaps, his hair long and unkempt around his face. That face was dirty, stained with mud and blood, and when he got a little closer, Dedue could see that his clothes fared no better. The black armour he wore was buckled in places, some of the plates caved in with such ferocity that it couldn't be comfortable to wear. Here, too, Dedue spotted blood. And if he could see it on the outside of the armour...

Well, it only got worse. Dedue unfroze just as the man reached the edge of his plot. The face that had seemed so dirty and bloody in fact held only one eye, and in place of the right there was a mess of blood.

For a moment, they stared at each other, Dedue's gaze meeting the man's bright blue eye. Blue eyes, blond hair, pale skin, the direction he came from - this man was Faerghan, which shouldn't have been possible. Faerghus was sealed, cursed, and no one could leave. Yet before Dedue could open his mouth to even question who he was, how he had arrived at such a remote place, the option was snatched away from him.

The man's eye closed, and he fell forwards, his body crashing into the fence. Dedue startled into action, leaning forward to catch him. He flipped him over in his arms, attempting to find somewhere to pick him up to carry him inside. In the interest of not worsening his wounds, Dedue ended up half cradling him in his arms. 

The man, whoever he was, didn't respond.

For a few moments, Dedue worried about the curse. He had no idea what it was or what it did to people, but it could be infectious. Maybe it could hurt him, too.

But there was no one else out here. Just Dedue and this sick, injured man, who was far too light in his arms for someone wearing a full set of armour. If Dedue left him, he would die. And if the curse spread to him...

Well, there was no one else around all the way out here. Perhaps Dedue would get hurt, but the only other option was unthinkable. So he rearranged the man's unconscious form in his arms and relit the fire in the stove. He'd be up a little while longer than usual, it seemed.

* * *

Days passed before the man awoke. Dedue tried to go about his business as usual, but it was difficult; the needs of the injured man sleeping on his floor stuck a wedge in his easy routine, and adjusting it was harder than Dedue expected. He was so used to living alone.

Sure, the man didn't need to be entertained. But Dedue had to make attempts to get him to drink, to eat. He was never conscious enough to meet Dedue's gaze, but he usually managed a mouthful or so. Keeping him nourished, making sure his wounds were clean and his dressings fresh, was a job that required Dedue to constantly take time out of the rest of his day.

He didn't exactly mind. It was just a little uncomfortable, something that set his mind on edge. Like he was doing something  _ wrong,  _ breaking from what he knew.

Yet the garden didn't suffer, and there was plenty to eat. Maybe Dedue's days hadn't been as full as he thought.

After a few days, Dedue heard the first sign that the man was truly stirring. There was a faint groan, a rasping voice, and he immediately dropped his bucket to the ground to rush into the little house.

Sure enough, the man had moved, just a little. His eye was open, darting uneasily around the room. 

"Good evening," Dedue said, ducking down to his side. The man's head snapped in his direction at the sound of his voice. His eye was still unfocused, but it looked a little clearer than it had in the last few days. "How are you feeling?"

"I-" The man groaned again, one hand moving to his ribs. When Dedue had pried the plates of armour away, he'd also had to cut apart a compression vest. The worst damage was definitely that done to his ribs and lungs, so it was no surprise that he felt it there the most. "Terrible."

Dedue couldn't help but let a small chuckle escape his lips. It wasn't funny, but it somehow seemed like it. "I am not surprised," he said. "You sustained serious injuries."

"Oh, I-" The man shook his head as if to clear it. "Yes. I must have."

Somehow, Dedue felt that if he asked how the injuries occurred, he wouldn't get an answer. Maybe this stranger wasn’t even capable of producing one. "I apologise for my lack of skill in healing," he said, moving to fetch a basin and sponge. It was probably about time for his dressings to be changed, anyway. "But you should still recover with time."

"That is quite alright," the man replied, but his voice already sounded a little far away. When Dedue turned back to him, his chest heaved and his eye fluttered closed for a moment. "My apologies. I am tired."

"You should rest," he said. Instead, the man attempted to sit up, and Dedue was forced to push him down gently by his uninjured shoulder. "You will recover better that way."

"I-" He let out a rough, dreadful-sounding cough, and finally stopped pushing up against Dedue's grip. "Perhaps you are correct. I will do as you ask."

Dedue let out a short sigh of relief. There was only so much he could do if the man refused bed rest; this was a good sign.

What was not a good sign was how tired he was all the time. Of course, Dedue hadn't expected him to be up and about as soon as he was able to stay conscious for more than five minutes, but... he expected a little more than what he got. The Faerghan stranger was quiet, and dodged any attempts at conversation despite having nothing else to do.

He slept a lot. It was a small blessing, Dedue supposed, because it allowed him to go on as normal, but he couldn't help but want a little more from him. The man slept on his floor and ate the food from his garden, and all he did was offer Dedue a weak smile every time he checked up on him.

"How are you doing today?" he'd ask one day, and the only reply he'd receive was a quiet affirmative.

"Does your eye need a different poultice?" he asked on another. In return, the man just shook his head, his lips firmly shut. There was nothing like the half embarrassed, half frantic conversation they'd had when he first awoke.

Yet, despite this, he recovered steadily. Each day there was less damage for Dedue to address, and some of the surface level wounds had healed up completely. A handful of worse ones would scar, no matter what he tried, but it was good enough. And as he rested, the man looked less and less like he was on death's door. A little pale and a little thin, perhaps, but there was no part of it that Dedue couldn't lend a hand with.

Eventually, he was able to get up out of bed and start taking short walks around the house. Dedue continued with his routine, content to leave him be for now; there wasn't exactly much he could steal, if he was so inclined, and he definitely couldn't make it very far if he tried to run.

So, leaving the mostly silent man to occasionally walk the length of his little house, Dedue went about his evening jobs. He watered the plants and collected some food, checked the fence for any new breaches (none yet, though between looking after the man Dedue hadn't managed to fix up the splintered post he'd crashed through), and then went back to the house to extinguish the stove.

When he entered, the stranger was already sitting at the table, in the only chair. "Good... evening?" he greeted. It sounded like a question.

"Yes," Dedue said, glancing out of the window. There was no way he couldn't tell that the sun was setting. "It is evening. I am glad to see you up and about; I was a little worried about your recovery."

The man frowned. "I apologise," he said. His hands twisted in his lap. "I fear I have been rather discourteous to you, after all you have done to help me. You asked no questions, and I offered you nothing in return."

Dedue blinked. It was the most he'd heard from his lips so far; after so long alone, hearing so much of another's voice... it was odd. "That is alright," he said. "I did not ask because I did not need to know." Alas, that didn't mean he didn't  _ want _ to know. He could only hope the man would provide the answers of his own free will.

"I have been rude nonetheless," he said firmly. And then he stood, shakily, with his left arm clutching the back of the chair. He stretched his right hand outwards, bringing it to rest on Dedue’s shoulder. "I am Dimitri. And I must thank you, kind stranger, for all you have done for me so far."

His grip was stronger than Dedue expected. "Dedue," he replied, realising that he hadn't given his own name before now. They hadn't had enough of a conversation to warrant it. "And it was no trouble. I am not lacking resources in any way, and I could not leave you there to die."

"Thank you regardless," Dimitri said. There was a small, sincere smile on his face; Dedue was just glad that he seemed to be doing okay.

As the weeks passed by, Dimitri became far more than okay - he got stronger with every day, and chattier too. Dedue didn't often have large chunks of time to spare in his day, but he could carve some out for Dimitri. As a consequence, they conversed every day.

"What do you do here?" Dimitri asked, his face immediately flushing pink in the evening light. "I-I mean, not that I believe you are doing nothing here, or that what you do is not worthwhile. I was just curious. I apologise."

"There is no need to," Dedue said firmly, and the tense line of Dimitri's shoulders relaxed a little. "I do not do much. I tend my garden and look after the house. And you, these days."

Dimitri let out a quiet chuckle. It was a strange sound, somehow, but decidedly welcome. Dedue hadn't known him for long, but he knew that Dimitri's smiles were few and far between. "Perhaps that is what I should apologise for, then."

"Not at all." Dimitri's presence was... Dedue had spent a long time alone in this house, on this plot of land. When he chose it, he'd intended to go to the local town every week or so, but it never happened. He missed the company of others. "It has been a lonely existence here, at times. Your being here is welcome, though I do wonder how it came to be."

"Mmmhmm," Dimitri said, humming. The grain of the wood in front of him had apparently just become very interesting. "I am glad I am welcome."

Dimitri always did this. Dedue would admit to pushing, just a little, for some more information about the man. He knew nothing of where he came from, other than that it must be from Faerghus, nor why he was here or how he had come to be so badly injured when he arrived. He didn't know the man's age, the names of his friends, or- or anything, really.

Dedue wanted to know, so he would always encourage, but he couldn't demand the information. For Dimitri to dodge his probing so completely, there could only be a reason that he did not want to talk about himself. Perhaps it was merely shyness, but there had to be something more.

Still, even as he grew ever more capable, Dimitri didn't impart any of the information. Soon, he was able to join Dedue in his daily rounds of the garden, though his hands were clumsy and Dedue fast learned not to give him delicate tasks. Eventually, he was able to get through the day with energy to spare, his wounds no longer bothering him, and nervousness began to pool in the pit of Dedue's stomach.

In all honesty, Dimitri was ready to move on by now. But each day, when he asked for Dedue's thoughts on the progress of his recovery, Dedue said he thought he could do with more rest. He wasn't sure exactly why; because Dimitri asked, Dedue knew he intended to move on. But Dedue had come to enjoy his company.

Eventually, Dimitri ran out of patience for their little song and dance. "Tell me Dedue: what do you know of Faerghus?" he asked one evening. It was a conversation Dedue had been dreading; the day when Dimitri decided to offer some information in the hope of gaining something in return. Perhaps that thing was his freedom.

"Very little," he answered. "It is cursed."

Dimitri pursed his lips. "It is," he said. "And that..." He shuffled in his seat and sucked in a deep breath. "I should begin somewhere else. Forgive me."

At that, he stood, dipping into a short bow before he pulled himself to his full height. He was shorter than Dedue, but commanded a kind of presence Dedue had no desire to possess. "I am Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, crown prince of Faerghus. My homeland has been cursed by a being known only as the Dusk King, condemned to operate in an eternal twilight. I must ask you for your help in reversing this."

"I..." All of a sudden, Dedue's mouth felt decidedly dry. "I may be able to offer it." Dimitri was close to a stranger to him, and yet closer than anyone in the world to a friend. "It depends what you would ask of me."

"I will admit to being reluctant to leave the comfort of your home and spurn the welcome you have granted me," Dimitri began, "but I must break the curse that has been placed on all my friends and challenge the one who would usurp my throne. I ask you to join me."

Something went cold at Dedue's fingertips. He didn't want Dimitri to leave. For days now, he had avoided that inevitability (as if it were something that could be avoided at all, his heart told him). Above everything, he didn't want to leave this place. It was everything to him. This life was everything he knew.

"You have reservations," Dimitri said softly. He began to pace the length of the room, forwards and backwards, stopping well short of each end as if he had come up against a wall that was not there. "I understand that the prospect may be intimidating. I... how long has Faerghus been cursed?"

The question seemed strange, and Dedue wasn't entirely certain how he knew the answer. He didn't recall ever being told. "A few score years," he answered. "Perhaps as many as a hundred."

Dimitri stopped pacing. He nodded. He nodded again. Legs shaking, he half stumbled to the table, lowering himself back into the chair. His hands found his face before he opened his mouth again, his voice thick with despair. "A hundred years," he murmured. "A hundred years. Of course you wouldn't want to join me in a place so condemned as Faerghus. Cursed a hundred years..."

Dimitri continued, most of the words lost to the crackle in his voice and his face in his palms. But what Dedue heard stuck with him, worming its way into his heart. Dimitri was upset. Deeply so. And he didn't know why that bothered him quite so much.

He didn't want to leave his home behind, especially not for somewhere like Faerghus. He'd never heard a good thing about it - years upon years ago, now, Duscur had been devastated by Faerghus. Some even said that this was the cause of the curse. And yet Dedue had always felt drawn to the place, like there was something there for him.

And now, Dimitri needed his help. Seeing him so upset— the thought of Dimitri leaving him behind hurt, but this was so much worse. Dedue ached from his fingertips right into his chest, as if his very being wished to tell him that ignoring Dimitri's plight was a mistake.

He didn't know if he made the decision, or if it was made for him by some other power, but Dedue knew what he had to do. In the corner of his house sat an unused bag, and next to it was Dimitri's decidedly more battered one. Dedue had cleaned it out, washed away the bloodstains, and put it next to his. Now, he pulled them both from their spot and set them down on the table.

Dimitri looked up at him through a tear stained eye when he started bustling around the little house, pulling things together. He had dried food from the best harvests of previous years, saved up for the worst of a winter that never seemed to come. Dedue felt like this was the time to use those supplies.

He emptied out the vestiges of his cupboard full of medical supplies (at least what Dimitri hadn't already emptied by virtue of his presence here) and split them evenly between the two bags. He went out to the stream with his waterskins and filled them up.

When he returned, Dimitri was standing again. "Is there anything I can do?" Dimitri asked. His voice still sounded a little small, but it was undeniably far stronger than before. A little of the confidence he'd held in his posture as he revealed the truth of his origins had returned.

"You brought a weapon with you?" Dedue asked, already knowing the answer. Dimitri nodded. "I know little of weaponry. If you brought anything with you for one, or I have anything that could prove useful, please pack it."

Dimitri sprung into action immediately, opening a handful of cupboards. "Technically you are meant to use a sword oil for weapons," he said, "but anything to grease it will suffice for basic cleaning." Dedue very nearly blanched at the thought of using cooking oil to clean a weapon, but he  _ had _ asked.

With Dimitri busy and an unusual energy filling Dedue's limbs, he moved to the darkest corner of his home. There, resting against the wall, stood an axe. It was vicious, far more so than anything Dedue had ever needed to use. He had a different axe for chopping firewood, so this one simply gathered dust.

He didn't know why he might need it. Maybe he would need to defend himself against something, in the cursed forests of Faerghus. It was better safe than sorry, and the grip of the handle fit better against his palm than he expected. If push came to shove, despite his lack of experience, he would be able to use it.

When he turned back to Dimitri, he looked a little... nervous. He held the spear he'd arrived with between his hands, nervously shifting the burden of its weight from one to another. "When are we leaving?" Dimitri asked.

"Now," Dedue said, going through both their packs one more time. Everything seemed to be in order. "There's no time like the present."

Dimitri smiled; it was a sight Dedue wanted to get used to. "Onwards, then," he said.

"Onwards," Dedue repeated, hefting the bag onto his back and stepping beyond the threshold. The sun was low in the sky - perhaps not the best time to set out - but he somehow felt that if he waited, he'd lose his nerve.

There was a strange feeling in the air as they stepped beyond the fenced garden. Dimitri walked beside him, his steps confident, and Dedue felt something shift within him. He couldn't put a finger on why, but it was as if something had changed forever. 


	2. Reach out your Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dedue and Dimitri go to Dominic territory to find Annette.

"Annette lives south west of here," Dimitri said, when Dedue finally thought to ask where they were going. So far, they'd walked through the trees in silence, Dedue too apprehensive to say a word.

Leaving the confines of his home felt strange; stranger than he expected, even. There were so many possibilities flooding into his mind, rushing through his veins, yet he couldn't catch hold of them for long enough to work out exactly what they were. It left him muddled, like he was walking through unending fog instead of a forest.

"Who is Annette?" he asked.

Dimitri's mouth fell open. "Ah, of course," he said. "I didn't tell you about them all, my apologies. Our aim is to travel across Faerghus, from here to Dominic territory, then round all the way up to Gautier before we head to the capital, Fhirdiad. Annette, one of my friends from my school days, lives closest, so we're headed there now."

"How far is it?" Dedue asked.

Dimitri frowned. "I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to tell you," he admitted. "I've never travelled Faerghus by foot before, and never walked all the way from Duscur. When I was young-"

He broke off and shook his head, letting them lapse into silence for now. Dedue didn't quite know what to say. "Do you imagine it will be a long walk?" he asked.

Dimitri's expression brightened just a little. "I expect so," he said, "but time is a little hard to track here in Faerghus. With no sunrise or sunset, we will just have to travel until we tire, and repeat until we arrive. Is that alright?"

Dedue nodded. It wasn't that he disliked walking - the opposite, in fact. He enjoyed the soft give of pine needles beneath his feet, the feeling of the sun's fleeting rays patterning his face. Though the landscape was, for now, fairly familiar and unchanging, he still felt as if he was expanding his horizons somehow.

There was another part of him, however, that didn't like this. With every long shadow that each branch cast, he was reminded of the ever present warning that he should never, ever venture into the Kingdom. It was cursed, and if he spent too much time there he would never return to his little farm at the edge of Duscur.

"Are you sure?" Dimitri's voice broke through his thoughts in much the same way as the sun stripping through the trees. "I feel as if I pushed you into this a little."

"I chose it," Dedue said firmly. He did. He could have refused, could have closed his heart to Dimitri's plight. A part of his heart still ached for the possibility of persuading Dimitri to stay with him, but he pushed it aside again. "I'm with you."

Dimitri's smile was small, but undeniably there. "Thank you," he said. "It means a lot to have such support from a stranger. Although..."

"Although?" There was something to Dimitri's voice that Dedue couldn't pinpoint.

Dimitri shook his head, his hair bouncing a little against his neck as he shook the thought free. "Never mind," he said. "I just think we shouldn't be strangers. Please, I told you all about this quest of mine, so tell me a little of yourself in return. I have plenty of time to listen."

"I am really not particularly interesting," Dedue answered.

"Surely not!" Dimitri said. "There must be something. You could tell me about... your family? If it isn't too much of a sore spot."

"I have parents," Dedue said, "and a sister. They're kind, loving people, but I haven't seen them in a while. That's all there really is to it."

Dimitri nodded, an increasingly thoughtful look on his face. "And what was growing up with them like? How about growing up in Duscur?"

"Probably very different to your own upbringing," he answered. "But in some ways much the same." He didn't know anything about Dimitri's childhood, but he imagined that his parents attended to him with care, that his early years were filled with adventure that lost its lustre as the years passed.

"That's hardly an answer," Dimitri said. He sounded almost frustrated, and Dedue tried to pay it no heed. It wasn't his fault that he didn't have better answers to the questions. "What about food? What kinds of food do you like?"

"It's difficult to think of anything when you put me on the spot like this," Dedue said with a chuckle.

"I'm sorry," Dimitri replied. "I had just - I spoke to you about my problem, and about my friends. I've asked so much of you and you already gave me so much of your time. The prospect of disrespecting that, of taking so much of your energy when I do not even let you get a word in... I cannot abide by it."

As he spoke, Dimitri lifted his eyes directly to meet Dedue's. His gaze was so intense, so piercing, even with only a single eye. It was almost too much, and Dedue forced himself to look away. "I am rather fond of fried fish," he said.

Dimitri blinked, looking confused for just a moment, and then his face split into another—admittedly small—smile. "Thank you," he said. He sounded pleased, but Dedue couldn't help but feel that he was dissatisfied somehow; the only response Dedue really gave that fully answered a question was Dimitri's last resort.

He'd ask again, and Dedue was still certain he'd have no idea what to say.

* * *

Dimitri let out a deep exhale when they broke free of the trees. "Nearly there," he promised. "The town isn't far beyond these woods, and the Dominic family have a permanent residence here. Annette should be within."

Dedue nodded, but his full attention wasn't on Dimitri. Instead, he stared at all the buildings, crammed within a tight, well-constructed wall. It was defensible, which he imagined was for a good reason.

He didn't think he'd ever seen so many buildings before, least of all so many made of stone. They stretched on further than he could see, and from here he couldn't even see a town square. The only feature he could clearly identify was a church steeple, rising far above most of the buildings.

Dedue stuck close behind Dimitri as they moved onwards. He doubted he would get lost, exactly, because surely this place couldn't be  _ that  _ big or confusing, but he wasn't willing to take the chance.

If Dimitri noticed how quiet he was, he didn't say a word. A determined look had formed on his face, and he moved past the groups of people like they were nothing. To his credit, none of them attempted to stop him - in fact, they seemed to cast their eyes downwards as they passed.

"Do they recognise you?" Dedue asked, when a child skidded in the mud in front of them to completely turn away. Odd.

Dimitri frowned, glancing around. "I suppose they could," he said, "though I haven't visited this town in a long time. Too long. Perhaps we are just..." He looked between himself and Dedue. "I think, perhaps, we cut an intimidating pair. I don't imagine this town sees many new individuals on their streets."

Dedue let out a humourless chuckle. He supposed that could be the case; they both walked with weapons strapped to their backs, and if  _ Dimitri  _ was a head taller than most of the townspeople then there was no knowing how many of them thought Dedue to be a mythological giant.

The thought of being feared didn't gratify him as much as he thought it would, but there was little time to muse on it. Soon enough, Dimitri brought them to a stop outside a house which seemed a little larger and better kept than the rest. "This should be the Dominic residence," Dimitri said. "It's been a while, but..."

He shook his head, squeezed his eye shut, and moved forwards to knock twice on the door. It was a low, loud sound, and within moments Dedue heard someone moving around inside. Barely a second later, the door opened, revealing a harried-looking young woman.

Her face split into a wide grin the moment she saw them - well, the moment she saw Dimitri. "Your Highness!" she cheered, opening the door a little wider and hooked her arms around Dimitri's waist for a hug. He patted her back a little awkwardly. "Please come inside, it's so good to see you again." Her eyes passed right over Dedue as she practically skittered across the hall. "Oh, I'm sorry! Please take your boots off at the door, our maid quit and I have to scrub the floor myself every day and-"

"It's alright, Annette," Dimitri said, toeing off his boots. Taking this as a cue that they'd be staying at least a little while, Dedue did the same. Dimitri half turned to him, an inscrutable look on his face before he turned back to Annette. "This is Dedue. He's travelling with me."

Annette's mouth dropped open, and she ran one hand through her hair. She looked stressed. "I'm sorry!" she repeated. "I completely forgot to ask. My bad."

"It is alright," Dedue said. She seemed stressed, and he didn't mind not receiving the kind of welcome Dimitri had.

"Please don't mind the mess," Annette said as she led them through spotless halls to a spotless parlour, where spotless crockery already rested on the table. "I'm going to get some tea, please please don't poke around, I'd be mortified!"

"I'm sure it's fine," Dimitri began, but at the way her eyes widened, he changed tack. "We won't look at anything. We'll be right here."

"Thanks," she said, bustling out of the room and leaving the two of them in silence.

"Is she always like this?" Dedue asked. He had the distinct impression she was.

True to his guess, Dimitri nodded. "Perhaps she is a little more harried than usual," Dimitri said, "but not by much. It's normal to see her worry, but I never quite worked out how to reassure her."

There was a distinct frown on his face at that, and Dedue was glad to see Annette burst back into the room, this time with a tray stacked high with biscuits and a teapot. "Sorry for the wait!" she said, though she couldn't have been gone for more than a minute.

Then again, Dedue got the distinct impression that Annette didn't quite see time in the same way he did. As he and Dimitri sipped on their tea, Annette finished hers much faster, moving on to turn the teacup in its place on the saucer. She turned it once, twice, and Dedue couldn't stop watching it. She was twitching slightly.

For a moment, he considered the possibility that there was some kind of trap waiting for them here. Dimitri had spoken of a usurper to his throne, and he doubted that whoever this Dusk King was would let people slip out of his reach so easily. He felt like he could trust Annette; she seemed like a kind, loving person, and her stress was almost entirely centred around their visit here, but still...

"Is anything the matter?" Dedue asked.

Annette looked like she was about to explode. "Yes!" she said. "Everything is the matter. So much is wrong." Her fingertips worried the edges of the tablecloth, her nails cutting little grooves into the fabric.

"Ah, I'm very sorry if we came at the wrong time," Dimitri said. He set his teacup back on the plate with more precision than someone with his strength should have been able to. "Why is everything wrong?"

"I just..." Annette let out a noise of frustration. "I have about a million and one things I  _ really  _ need to do right now, because I'm always so busy, but I also really have to entertain the two of you because you're his Highness and also my friend and you just showed up and- sorry-"

Dedue stood from his seat and moved around the circular table to take one closer to Annette. "It's alright," he said. He didn't have much experience dealing with something like this, but Dimitri seemed half frozen in place and Annette wasn't going to get a handle on this by herself. "Take a moment to breathe."

As he spoke, he set one hand on hers, bringing her fidgeting to a stop. She caught his gaze for a moment and seemed to make a concerted effort to bring her breathing level with his, but it was to little avail. "I'm sorry," she said. "It's just- a lot. You caught me off guard."

"I understand," he said. He remembered the slightly frantic feeling that rose in his chest when Dimitri appeared out of the woods. "But as you said, Dimitri is your friend, yes? So tell us if there's anything we can do to help you, and we'll do what we can."

Annette took a few more moments to take deep, shuddering breaths before she nodded. "Alright, if you're sure," she said. She glanced at him again, and Dedue nodded. "I have to clean all of this away, tidy up the books in here and the library, clean the kitchen, feed the cats, go to the marketplace before people head off for the day, cook dinner, clean the kitchen again, tidy the library... I have some correspondence I have to answer, and ideally I need to get some reading done because I never do anything  _ enriching  _ these days, it feels like."

When she took another deep breath to continue, Dedue opened his mouth. "Would we be able to help with that?" he asked. "Perhaps some of the tidying."

"I couldn't ask you to do that!" Annette said, shaking her head.

"I insist," Dimitri added. "I fear we've intruded on your busy day here long enough, Annette, so I'd be very happy to help."

"If you're sure," Annette said, pausing for only a moment as Dedue and Dimitri both nodded. "Thank you so much. Could I ask you to start in the library?"

With that, Annette unceremoniously procured several items of cleaning equipment and dumped them in Dedue's arms, giving them directions to the library as she bustled off in the other direction. As she departed, Dimitri's posture relaxed a little.

"Is everything alright?" Dedue asked as they walked through the various hallways to find the library; wherever it was, Annette's directions had been incorrect or at the very least incomplete.

Dimitri answered with a slightly tentative nod. "Nervous, I suppose," he said. He glanced down at the objects in Dedue's hands. "Here, let me take some of those." Then, without waiting for Dedue's response, he took most of it from him.

They located the library quickly and set to work. It wasn't particularly untidy, but Dedue moved around to pick up various papers and books as he walked between desks. When that was done, he squatted down to try and read the titles, attempting to work out where they'd go.

It turned out that he had no clue how the library was organised. The books had clearly each come from somewhere specific, but he couldn't see a particular rhyme or reason for how it was arranged. Books on faith magic accompanied dense economic tomes, and the books on irrigation stood next to a novel with a title so suggestive Dedue dared not open it. But some of them were definitely organised by group, and-

Dedue's footsteps stuttered to a stop as he took a deep breath in. He knew himself well, and he was not the kind of person who stressed over cleaning or arranging books. Especially not when, at the face of it, there was nothing stressful about this task - it had no impending deadline, no consequences if it was left incomplete. They were just doing a favour for a friend.

He frowned at everything in front of him and, with a suspicion developing in his mind, went to find Dimitri.

Dimitri was pacing back and forth in front of one of the shelves, his forehead creased as he frowned. "Dimitri," he said, and the man startled. "You said that the Kingdom and all its people are cursed. What does that involve?"

Dimitri nodded, and then shifted awkwardly on the spot and started pacing again. "I don't think now is a good time," he said. "We really do need to help Annette, and all of these books... I can't find rhyme nor reason to the arrangement. Have you given it any thought? I think these three books are related, but then I had to consider that the shelves may be organised by spine hue, and-"

Dedue, as gently as he could, brought his hands to rest on Dimitri's shoulders, stopping him in his tracks. "Dimitri." This time, he made sure his voice was firm. "Please, tell me about the curse."

The worried crease between Dimitri's eyebrows lessened a little, and in turn the worry building in Dedue's chest halted. "Okay," he said, voice heavy as he made his way to one of the chairs. He sat down in it and gripped the sides when Dedue moved to sit opposite him. "The curse traps people," he explained.

"How?" Dedue asked. And how had Dimitri broken free of it to see him, of all people?

"It creates... a loop of sorts," he said, tracing patterns into the desk's surface. "Say that a man is a butcher, with aspirations of becoming a knight. Every day, he wakes up and goes about his business. At about midday, a platoon of knights walk through the town, and one sees the way he handles a knife with precision and says he has potential. If the curse were not in place, the man would consider joining the knights, and maybe a few weeks later would make the choice to do so.

"Under the curse, however, the man shakes his head and informs the knight he has his job to stick to, and wouldn't be able to leave it. The knight moves on, and the butcher remains. Every day passes in the same way, for the knights are in the same loop, patrolling the same area. But the butcher will never join them, stuck in place as he is, even though he yearns terribly to seek something else."

"I see," Dedue replied.

"This is- oh! I see now." Dimitri's eye lit up, and then he shook his head, frustration entering his voice. "This is Annette's curse. A constant loop of unending tasks she must attend to."

"And she nearly caught us in the thread she weaved," Dedue concluded.

Dimitri nodded. "I sincerely apologise," he said, his gaze drifting away from Dedue, focused on his hands. "I should have told you about this earlier. Perhaps you would have been better at identifying what was happening than I."

"It's alright," Dedue said. A part of him wanted to reach across the table that separated them, catching Dimitri's hands in his own and preventing him tracing all those patterns in the wood. He wanted Dimitri to meet his gaze again, and not feel as if he'd just put them both at risk.

He didn't do that. Instead, he said, "I understand why it happened. There was no harm done."

Dimitri's thumbs, caught up in a jagged outline only he could see, halted in their path. "I suppose so," he said. He took in a short breath, and when his gaze met Dedue's again, he seemed a little brighter. "Either way, we know what's going on here, and we need to work out how to get Annette out of this."

Dedue hummed. "She's positive that the world will end if these tasks don't get completed," he said, "but we know the world won't end."

"It can only expand!" Dimitri said excitedly. "Yes, Dedue, you're right. We have to fail in the most spectacular way possible."

"That was-" Dedue just about managed to hold back a laugh. "That was not what I was going to suggest. But I think it will work."

Fortunately, the part of Annette that worried sincerely about being rude to her guests was strong, because she arrived only minutes later. Dedue looked at Dimitri and found him staring back at him. He blinked, or perhaps winked. Dedue knew exactly what to do.

Just as Annette passed, he stumbled on the stepladder, grabbing a handful of books from the shelves. They clattered to the floor right in front of her, and Annette stopped dead in her tracks. "My apologies," he said, hurriedly going to pick them up and placing them back on haphazardly. When he stopped to check if Annette was looking, he made sure to put one in upside down.

"Ahh, no no, you're doing it all wrong!" Annette said, and the distress in her voice was so evident that Dedue almost felt bad. He told himself it was for the best and hoped it really was. "I'm sorry, I'm just-" She shoved a bucket of water towards him. "Could you go and empty this? I need fresh water for the laundry."

The water within looked perfectly fine, but Dedue did as she asked, signalling to Dimitri as he crossed the library. Just as he reached a point where there were no books around, Dimitri crossed the room at a pace far faster than Dedue anticipated, practically barrelling into him.

It was a foregone conclusion - the water sloshed all over the floor, and Annette called out. "Dimitri!"

"I'm sorry!" he replied. He sounded genuinely worried, but Dedue had to hope it was an act. "I'll go and get a mop. Again, I'm sorry."

"I'm coming with you!" Annette said hurriedly, her footsteps loud as she very nearly sprinted across the library. She led them to the kitchen, where a mop stood in the corner. Between it and them were a lot of kitchen countertops, each already prepared for cooking later that day.

Dedue's eyes caught Dimitri's. Dimitri's gaze flickered to the bag of flour that rested on one of the countertops. And, very slowly, just as Annette turned her back, he pushed it off the edge. It landed with a quiet thump and a distinctly impressive puff of flour.

"How do you keep making everything  _ worse?"  _ Annette asked, spinning around on her heel the moment it dropped to the ground. "Sorry, I don't mean to be rude, I just- I really don't need this mess right now."

"I understand," Dimitri said. "I'm sorry, it must be something to do with my Crest. You know how it is, I- perhaps Dedue and I should do something outside?"

Annette nodded fervently. "Yes, yes, there are clothes out on the line. If you could put them in the basket and get them back in here, that'd be a huge help- oh, but not in  _ here,  _ just inside, because the flour might make them dirty again, and-"

They left quickly, taking a basket with them. Once they were outside, they stared at the line. Stared at all the spotless clothes hanging upon it. Dedue's gaze fell on the pond just beyond the line.

"Are you thinking what I think you are?" Dimitri asked. There was something distinctly mischievous in his voice. Dedue nodded, so into the pond the clothes went.

"Did you-" Annette stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the laundry floating in the slightly dirty pond. Dedue knew it could be cleaned, but apparently that didn't quite register for her. Instead, Annette practically folded over herself, knees falling to the grass. "Why can't anything go right today?"

She sounded close to tears, her voice breaking as she spoke. Dedue looked between Dimitri and Annette, and when Dimitri glanced at him, he nodded. "Annette," Dimitri said, taking a couple of steps towards her shaking form. "I think you need a break."

"A break?" she asked, her voice going higher, and for a terrible moment Dedue wondered if they'd taken the wrong approach. "A break? I can't- I don't have time for a break! If I don't get all of this fixed, I'll- I'll-"

She buried her face in her arms, and Dimitri drew closer. "Nothing bad will happen if you stop for just a couple of days," he said. "Why don't you take a trip with Dedue and I? It doesn't have to be long, but we could go out into the woods, do something you find fun."

Annette's breaths came in short, halting puffs, but she nodded. "Okay," she said. She breathed in and out again. "Okay. Yes, I can do that. A break sounds good."

Dimitri's face lit up. "Wonderful!" he said, offering Annette a hand to help her off the ground. "Why don't you take us to the stables, and we can ride out this afternoon."

Annette's returning smile was shaky but undeniably there as she took Dimitri's hand. "Yes, that sounds good. They're just this way!"

She walked them to the other side of the courtyard. The prickling nervousness in Dedue's chest from earlier was replaced with something else, perhaps anticipation. He hoped that whatever they'd convinced her to do would work.

Just as they picked out the horses and Dimitri started to help with tacking them up, Annette's movements stilled. "Oh Goddess," she said softly. "You- I-"

"I think it might have worked," Dimitri said, his voice full of happiness. Dedue decided he very much liked the sound. "Is everything alright, Annette?"

Instead of answering, Annette buried her face in her hands for a moment. "Oh  _ gosh,  _ I am so sorry!" she said, looking between the both of them. "I was just..." She shook her head. "This is so embarrassing."

"It really isn't a problem," Dimitri said, his voice gentle. "You don't need to be embarrassed. We were here to break your curse, not ask you to do it all yourself."

"I know," she said, letting out a frustrated sigh as she patted her horse's neck. "I just wasn't acting like myself, and I'm frustrated you had to see me like that." As she spoke, she looked towards Dedue. "I swear I'm not like that all the time! Just... sometimes."

Dedue chuckled. "I understand," he said. He had no idea what being broken out of the curse felt like, but already the tight line of Annette's shoulders had eased somewhat. He could guess that, with time, she'd feel more and more like herself. "I look forward to getting to know the real you, then."

Annette's smile was brighter than the perpetually setting sun. "Likewise!" she said. "It's good to properly meet you, Dedue."

With the second round of introductions out of the way, they were free to move on, taking the eastern road to the next goal in their journey. The strange feeling that came with leaving his home in Duscur didn't return as Dedue spurred his horse on, but in its place was something else: a tiny, tentative spark of hope.


	3. Hold on to your Courage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dedue, Dimitri, and Annette travel onwards to Gaspard, where Ashe has taken up a knighthood.

The next stretch of their journey took them south, to lands Dimitri referred to as Gaspard territory. This time, they travelled by horseback, making for a much faster journey than before. "Though I don't know if we'll find anything there," Dimitri admitted. "It's just where I believe Ashe lives now."

"Did he send you any letters?" Annette asked. "After we split apart, that is."

Dimitri nodded. "The last I heard from him, he was engaging in additional training to become a knight in Gaspard. That must have been more than a moon before-" He trailed off and looked up at the sky. When Dedue glanced up, he saw nothing new there, just the pale outline of the moon and a scattered collection of stars. "I didn't hear anything more, so it's the only idea I have."

"How long ago was that?" Dedue asked with a frown. Dimitri hadn't been aware of just how long Faerghus had been frozen, so he didn't know if he'd actually be able to tell him, but it was worth a try. If it wasn’t too long before everything froze, maybe he could be more reassuring about the possibility that he was still there.

Dimitri's frown mirrored Dedue's own as his eye scrunched up a little in concentration. "I am unsure," he admitted. "Time doesn't mean much anymore. Not in Faerghus. All I know was that it was before - I think I recall reading the letter by candlelight, so it must have been late, though perhaps my memory-"

As he brought a hand to his forehead to rub at one of his temples, Dedue decided not to press anymore. It was clearly making everyone uncomfortable - the exuberance he'd come to expect from Annette had faded, and a cold weight had settled in his own stomach.

The conversation didn't provide any real answers. It did, however, leave Dedue with another question forming in the back of his mind: how old was Dimitri?

If Dedue were to take a stab in the dark, he would guess that Dimitri was in his mid twenties. There was a tired, slightly haggard look to his face, shadows accentuated by the low light of evening, but no other signs of age. If Dedue's approximation of how long Faerghus had been cursed was correct, however, he'd been on the face of the planet for more than a century; though what he'd been doing, Dedue couldn't be sure.

He didn't  _ seem  _ to carry the weight of those years, either. Dedue glanced up at Dimitri once more, he gestured wildly to Annette as they moved through a particularly difficult section of forest. Dedue was struggling, lagging behind the pair of them a little as Annette picked her way through carefully.

But Dimitri... Dimitri's hands were off the reins more often than on, and he constantly shifted around in the saddle. At one point, just as they broke out of that particular thicket of trees, Dedue looked over at Dimitri to find his hands in his horse's mane, braiding each strand with an expression that could be described as nothing but intense focus.

When Dimitri pulled his hands away, he smiled to himself; he must have thought no one was looking. In that moment, his face lit up like a sun so completely different to the one hanging threateningly low in the sky behind them. He didn't look anything close to old then, the weight of years fading away in an instant.

No, he looked ethereal; beautiful, perhaps, if Dedue were to allow himself such thoughts about a man he barely knew.

* * *

"I'm really rather surprised that you don't know how to set a trap, given how far away from anything you lived, Dedue!" Dimitri's surprise was good-natured, at least, as he twisted the twine around the tree's trunk.

"I don't tend to eat animals," he explained. He had, on rare occasions, caught a bird or two in the traps he used to keep them off his plants, but never anything more. Never anything like whatever Dimitri was clearly hoping to catch with a snare that size.

"And now we wait," Dimitri said with a smile, tying the other end of the snare to a tree opposite. He'd explained, a few moments ago, that this was a track animals used fairly regularly; you could see marks on the ground where the undergrowth was stirred frequently. Sooner or later, they'd get something to eat.

For the time being, they headed back to the small clearing they'd decided to use to rest in that night (or as close an approximation as you got to one in Faerghus; they mostly just stopped when they tired). It was just about sheltered enough to provide respite from the cold, but open enough that they could lay out sleeping gear and stay on the lookout for any predators.

Their next obstacle came when Dimitri, who'd always done the hunting and camp setting when it was just the pair of them, turned to Dedue and Annette. "Would you be able to help me set a fire?" he asked.

Annette pulled a face. "I don't know how, honestly," she said. "Never learned." Dimitri nodded, and turned to Dedue. Dedue pulled a face that looked pretty similar to Annette's.

"I am afraid I've never set a fire before, at least not outdoors," he admitted. He had a large stash of wood for his stove which he rarely had to take the time to replenish, and he found himself missing the ease of it now, especially as Dimitri moved to set stones out in a circle and cleared the snow from the centre.

He worked quickly, giving Annette and Dedue occasional instructions - fetch the wood from that pack on Dedue's horse, dry the damp bits that sat at the top before you hand them over, and shield the spark a little so the cold doesn't snuff it out. It was easy as a team, and soon enough Dedue was able to sit back by the fire, slowly roasting some of the meat from the deer Dimitri caught in the snare.

"You did a great job on this, Dimitri, thanks!" Annette said, leaning closer to the fire with her hands outstretched. "I don't know what we'd do without you, though I guess I wouldn't be out here without you or Dedue at all." She let out a short, nervous laugh at that.

Dimitri chuckled. "There may be skills I lack," he said, "but survival in the wilderness is not one of them. Why, when I was this high-" He gestured to his knees. "-Gustave - that's Annette's father, Dedue - once got me out of bed in the middle of the night, just as winter set in, and demanded I followed him out into the snowy woods. And then he left me there!"

"He did  _ what?"  _ Dedue was almost certain he must have misheard him.

But instead of correcting him, Annette just laughed along with Dimitri. "He did something pretty similar to me when I was little," she said. "He woke me one morning and announced we were going hunting! I was so surprised he wasn't in the capital that I just leapt straight out of bed and didn't get ready properly. I got frostbite."

Dedue watched on in horror over the fire as the pair of them laughed about it. "That sounds exactly like him," Dimitri said. "Always so serious, and keen to turn everything into a training exercise of some form. I'm all the stronger for it, though it was probably a little dangerous at the time."

"I'd say," Annette said. "Imagine handing a six year old a bow and saying 'good luck'! I'd barely even touched a bow and arrow."

"Did you catch anything?" Dimitri asked, letting out another chuckle.

"Nope," Annette replied. "I got him to agree to take me home by collecting some herbs and telling him that mother wouldn't let him go back to the capital if I froze to death."

Dedue blinked, looking between the pair of them. The way they conversed was so familiar, like he'd heard the words before, and yet he didn't fit. There was nothing about these stories that made sense to him; the idea of sending a child out in the snow, the prospect of  _ laughing  _ at it, the easy connection between the two...

Dedue was an outsider in Faerghus and with Dimitri, and the truth of it settled like a stone in his stomach. He didn't know why he was so surprised; of course they had different experiences. Beyond anything else, their childhoods were a century and half a country apart. Yet he felt like the words should resonate more than this.

He felt like some of this should make sense, but instead it just made him feel like the outsider of their little group. And there were only three of them; he could barely imagine what it would be like when Dimitri was back with all his companions of the past, with Dedue merely a hanger-on to their success. 

The weight of his thoughts felt heavy on his limbs for the rest of the evening, and Dedue found himself staring into the fire more than listening to the enthused catching up between Dimitri and Annette. They reminded him of siblings, almost, but that only reminded him of how far he was from home.

The easy familiarity of his and Dimitri's earlier escapades in freeing Annette from the curse felt very, very far away. Now, Dimitri checked in on him only once or twice, shooting a concerned look Dedue's way each time he pulled himself away from his fun.

He didn't say anything, and neither did Dedue. Dedue could only hope that the grim certainty settling in his mind about his relevance to the future was misplaced.

* * *

Their travels continued, and Dedue still found it difficult to shake the dread from his bones each time he awoke. Every day was for watching Dimitri from a distance, observing the way he interacted so easily with Annette. And every day, Dedue regretted that he didn't know how to bridge that undeniable chasm between them.

At the end of that particular day - as much as days ended, though Dedue felt he'd built up a rhythm for their travel by now - Annette snagged the first watch.

"I'm not letting you both get less rest than me!" she warned. "Dimitri, you haven't had a full night of sleep since you came to Dominic, and Dedue only had one. You're sleeping all the way through tonight."

The way she spoke it sounded half like a threat, and Dedue would have laughed at her had he not witnessed earlier that day  _ exactly  _ what Annette could do with a reason spell and enough space. Besides, he couldn't bring himself to object; Dimitri definitely needed more sleep.

Yet, as they both acquiesced to her terms (Dedue after making Annette promise to wake him when she needed to sleep, Dimitri after putting up feeble resistance to her demands) and settled down on their sleeping mats for the night, Dimitri seemed restless. It was a restlessness that continued after Dedue closed his eyes, with Dimitri turning over every minute or so.

Dedue cracked his eyes open again to find Dimitri watching him. Dimitri blinked and hurriedly flipped his head away, hair flopping over his eye as he did so. "Is everything alright?" Dedue asked.

Dimitri ignored him for a moment, perhaps attempting to pretend he was already asleep. Dedue cleared his throat, and Dimitri sighed. "I'm fine," he said. "Please, go to sleep; you need the rest as much as I."

Dedue made sure that his disbelief made its way into his tone as he replied. "You have been tossing and turning for too long to simply call yourself fine.”

He couldn't see Dimitri's grimace, but he could hear it. "I suppose you are right," he said. He sighed again. "I am... struggling to sleep. I find it difficult to get my mind to settle sometimes."

"I understand," Dedue said. Sometimes he found it difficult himself, though perhaps not to the extent Dimitri seemed to be experiencing. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I don't know," Dimitri answered, but there was one thing Dedue definitely  _ had _ learned since they began their journey: Dimitri was a poor liar. He answered too quickly, and his tone was too flat.

"Are you sure? Whatever it is, I do not mind, and will not feel obliged."

"I... enjoy the sound of your voice," Dimitri murmured, almost too quiet to hear. Dedue felt his face heat up, and for a moment he was sure he must have misheard him. "So if you could- if you could speak to me, that would help. You can say whatever you like."

"I-" Dedue stopped. He didn't know what to say, nervousness filling his lungs and clenching its hand around his throat. He took a deep breath in and out.

"My apologies," Dimitri said softly. "I did not mean to put you on the spot." At this, he turned over, catching Dedue's gaze with his own. "If it is too difficult, I will manage - truly, I have slept most nights since we set out."

"Most," Dedue said. Dimitri grimaced, but nodded. He'd been given the  _ opportunity  _ to snatch a few hours every night, or as much as he needed, but still... "Would you mind if I told you a story?"

Dimitri's face lit up. "That would be wonderful," he said.

Dedue smiled, and launched into the first tale he could remember. It was about a dove, born with feathers stained grey. Everything around it had feathers as white as the snow that dusted the treetops - everything except this little dove. So, one day, it flew away, far beyond the snowy space it knew.

Eventually, it came to a whole new world, filled with trees that had no bark or leaves - just cold, rocky sides and slippery branches. It was a cruel, cold place, with far less shelter than the world the dove knew before. But it didn't care, because one of the first things it saw in this new, strange forest was a bird that looked exactly like it.

Dedue closed the story with a soft smile. "The bird learned that it was not a dove in the same way as the doves of its home, but a pigeon - undeniably connected to the dove, but distinct. And with a new home in a new landscape, with new birds that understood it, the pigeon was happy."

Dimitri's eye, which had fluttered closed during the story, opened once more. "That was an uplifting tale," he said. His voice moved more steadily than before, perhaps, and Dedue hoped he wasn't imagining the way his breathing had evened out.

"It's a little simple, but it was the first thing that came to mind," he admitted.

"I thought it was lovely," Dimitri said, his tone firm. "It would be nice to be the pigeon, able to drift somewhere new, to be free of burdens and find new hope."

"Perhaps you are the pigeon," Dedue said. He didn't know where the idea came from, but with the way Dimitri's eye widened, perhaps he'd said the right thing. "Perhaps you're still flying, and waiting to land in a new forest."

Dimitri sighed, but he didn't sound annoyed. "Perhaps the pigeon should stop flying for now and go to sleep," he said. Dedue smiled at him again. "It helped a lot. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Dimitri," Dedue said, lying down properly under his own blankets. He, too, felt like he'd get to sleep a little easier now.

"Thank you, Dedue." It was spoken softly, almost inaudible over the crackle of the fire and the sound of breathing. But it was there; Dedue watched Dimitri's lips move, felt the warmth of its sentiment seep into his very bones.

Dedue drifted off to sleep with a smile on his face. He and Dimitri weren't that far away at all.

* * *

Gaspard looked a little different to Dominic territory - the large town was surrounded by what could only be described as a castle, with only one entrance before them. Fortunately, no one waited at said entrance, and the guard waved them past with a bored expression, not even asking them for their business.

For better or worse, it didn't take them long to find Ashe - before they could even dismount from their horses, they heard a commotion up ahead. When they rounded the corner, they found themselves in a large market square, stalls clustered everywhere, with a crowd gathered in front of something that could only be described as a spectacle.

A group of soldiers stood on a set of stone steps pointed their swords at a girl. She sat on the steps, her whole body backed up against them, as she frantically shook her head.

"I promise you, please sirs! I didn't do a thing."

The knight at the head of the group tutted. "You would say that, thief," he said, poking his sword closer to her. She tried to back up more, but there was nowhere to go. "Confess, and you might find yourself getting off easy."

"No she wouldn't," a different knight added. "Sentence for stealing is death, either way. The only difference this'll make is how painful it is before."

"Please, sirs, I'm begging you - I wasn't there! I didn't do it. Don't even have the bread."

"Of course you don't!" the first knight roared. The small crowd gathering took a step back in tandem. "You stole the bread, and then you ate it. There's no other explanation."

"Now, hang on-" another knight tried. He was the only one in the group hanging back just a little, and from the way Annette and Dimitri tensed up either side of him, Dedue gathered that this was Ashe. "We don't have any evidence that she actually stole anything. We can't kill someone on a hunch!"

The lead knight huffed. "No one asked you,  _ Sir  _ Ubert," he said. His sword pressed up against the girl's throat, and she let out a gasp. "Come on, thief. Up you get." Shakily, the girl stood, the other knights immediately moving to bind her hands together. As they moved her along, the second knight stepped up to survey the townsfolk.

"The thief is being taken in for further questioning," he announced, "and will be punished on the morrow if no compelling evidence can be found of her innocence. Be on your way, and let this be a warning to all of you." With that, he turned on his heel and followed the group, leaving only Ashe standing at the steps. Dedue watched as he put his head in shaking hands.

"We have to do something," Annette said. Dimitri and Dedue nodded, dismounting at the edge of the square and tying the horses up. Ashe was still there when they were done, standing in the same spot as he watched the marketplace with a careful eye.

As the three of them approached, Ashe spotted them, and his face lit up. "Annette! Your Highness!" he called, a bright smile on his face. "And..."

"Dedue," Dimitri said. Ashe waved to Dedue, and he smiled slightly in return. "But please, Ashe, not so loud - I don't want anyone getting the wrong idea. I'm not here for an occasion."

"Oh?" Ashe asked, the curiosity on his face impossible to ignore. "My apologies, then, but why  _ are  _ you here? I haven't heard from you in... ages."

"And I'm sorry for it," Dimitri replied. "I thought it would be good to check in on you, actually - and congratulations on your appointment! Last I heard, you were squired here, but I see you wear knight's colours now. I'm glad to see you in a position you deserve."

"Ah, thank you your Highness!" Ashe said, his face stretched into a smile. Somehow, Dedue felt like there was a light in his eyes that was meant to accompany it; there was nothing there. "It means a lot that you'd say that, especially as I'm... finally doing the thing I always dreamed of."

As he spoke, his eyes drifted towards the spot on the steps where the girl had been apprehended. His smile faded.

"Are you sure everything is alright?" Dedue asked, not even sparing a glance towards the others; he didn't know the details of the curse placed on Ashe, but he could tell that something was amiss here. "There seemed to be a disturbance here as we arrived."

"Oh, it's fine, it's fine!" Ashe replied. His face stretched into another smile, and this one looked no less forced. "It's just a little tiring sometimes, aha." As he spoke, he rubbed the back of his head; clearly he wanted Dedue to drop the topic.

He would do no such thing. "Who was the person the knights just took in?" Dedue asked. When Ashe shifted on the spot, he opened his mouth again. "A thief?"

"N-no!" he replied. He looked down at the ground. "Maybe. There's a lot of crime here in Gaspard, and it's pretty much all we can do to punish wrongdoing when it occurs. I... I may not always agree with the way it's done, but I'm a knight. I'll use my position for good, and if that means... yeah."

He was clearly unhappy with the whole thing, and Dedue couldn't help but worry. If Gaspard was in a loop of constantly executing their citizens, then after a hundred years, this space shouldn't be as full as it was. There had to be something else going on, but he didn't know if he wanted to put an innocent girl's life at risk to find out what it was.

"I don't think it has to mean that," Dimitri said firmly. Ashe looked up again, the tiniest spark of hope visible in his eyes. "You should take your doubts seriously, Ashe - we can help you investigate it, if you like."

Ashe took in and let out two deep breaths, steadying himself against the wall before he replied. "Yes, your Highness, you might be right," he said. He glanced nervously around at the crowd. "I don't know if there's anything to be done here, but maybe we could go to the bakery? Or we could go and speak to the girl's mother, maybe she'd know what happened, but- oh, there's not enough time."

He buried his face in his hands again. Dedue watched as Annette stepped up beside him, putting an arm around his shoulder. "It's alright," she said. "Why don't we split up? Perhaps his Highness and I could go to the bakery, and you could go to the other person you mentioned with Dedue!"

Dedue glanced between the pair and Dimitri, apprehension filling his chest. He hadn't been apart from Dimitri since the moment the man stumbled into his life, and while he didn't want to think about how attached he was already, he also didn't like the sound of being separated from him for too long.

Dimitri caught his eyes and, seeing the concern in his expression, mouthed only one thing: 'I trust you.' It was simple, and maybe it was almost nothing, but the sentiment caught in Dedue's throat and dispelled much of the nervousness. He looked back at Ashe and Annette and nodded; he could do this.

"I think that sounds like a good idea," Dedue said, turning towards the square's exit. "What do you think, Ashe?"

Ashe bit his lip, but then nodded. "I think it'll work," he said. "We'll come back to the square when we're done? The bakery isn't far, so you'll be back before us, but don't worry about it."

"Of course," Dimitri said. "Safe travels."

Ashe let out a short laugh. "We're only going down the street!" he said. "We'll be fine." And with that, he nodded once to Dedue and moved towards the street leading out of the square.

Ashe chattered nervously about a handful of things that didn't make sense to Dedue as they went; something about polishing a uniform button, and the mice in the keep's pantry. He was stressed, but if Dedue had learned anything from their time with Annette it was that the curse thrived on the familiar.

And Ashe had been exceedingly uncomfortable when talking about knighthood.

"I was thinking about something you said earlier." Ashe nodded, motioning for Dedue to continue. "You said you dreamed of being a knight?" he asked, hoping he managed to sound casual.

Ashe let out a long sigh. "I've always wanted to be a knight," he said, fiddling with the coloured fabric at the edge of his tunic. "Ever since I was young. Because knights are just, good, and kind; they work so the people around them can be safer and happier. I've always wanted the power to do that."

Dedue nodded. The street split off into two, and Ashe took the left one; hopefully they were close to the place they needed to be now, yet Dedue couldn’t help but hope for a little longer. He was starting to get an idea of how he could solve this part of the curse. "Do you think the knights in Gaspard are just?" he asked.

Ashe winced, stopping in front of a narrow doorway. "I'm not sure," he admitted. "At least, I'm not sure sometimes, and today feels like one of those times. But there's no time for that right now, okay? We're here."

Dedue nodded, stepping back slightly to let Ashe knock on the door. It was answered by an older woman, her face creasing into a concerned look the moment she saw Ashe. "Ah, Sir Ubert," she said. "I hope my Yvette hasn't been in trouble again?"

Dedue didn't need to see Ashe's face to know the look that passed over it. "I'm afraid she is, Mallory," he replied. "But I'll fix it, I swear! I know she's not a thief, so if you could just answer a couple of questions for me?"

Mallory nodded. "And who's your handsome young friend there?" she asked. Dedue shifted his weight onto his other leg as Ashe laughed, hoping his embarrassment wasn't too obvious.

"This is Dedue," Ashe said. "He's a friend of someone pretty important, but don't worry - his heart is just as big as you'd think with someone as tall as him!"

Dedue felt his face heat up. Ashe barely knew him, and yet... "We just need to ask you where Yvette was today," he said, hoping neither of them would look at his face too closely. "She was apprehended for a crime committed four or so hours ago, at the bakery."

"Of course," Mallory said with a tut. "The baker is as blind as anything. Half the kids in town try their luck with him, and the knights should know that well. If they're so worried about the stealing, they should have someone help him rather than doing those meaningless parades in the square every day."

"Mmm," Ashe hummed. Dedue couldn't quite tell if he was uncomfortable or if he agreed; perhaps both. "Could you tell me where she was?" he asked. "If you know, of course."

"I absolutely do know," she replied. "She was over at the school all morning."

Ashe nodded. "I- forgive me for asking, I thought you didn't have the money for schooling."

Mallory pulled a face. "Yes," she said, "that's true, but- the captain offered to pay. Said that seeing as she keeps getting into trouble but never actually  _ doing  _ anything... you could ask the teacher if you like."

Ashe shook his head. His voice sounded different when he replied; slightly strange. "That won't be necessary, thank you," he said. "Yvette will be back later today, Mallory, I promise you."

"Thank you," Mallory said, a small, worried smile stretching over her face. "You do a lot for this town, Sir Ashe. We're lucky to have you."

"Aw, you don't have to say that!" Ashe said, a nervous laugh escaping his chest. "But thank you. I do what I can." He moved to turn away with a wave. "See you around, Mallory."

There was a worried look on his face, however, as they made their way back towards the town square, and Dedue knew to push at it. "Is there something on your mind?" he asked.

Ashe nodded. "I'm... no. I'm sure it's nothing. We should hurry back; there might not be much time before they condemn her, and I'm not sure what we can do if that happens."

"Does this happen frequently?" Dedue asked, and Ashe nodded again, his frown deepening.

"Most days, I think," he admitted. "Normally it takes a little longer for me to gather the evidence I need to set people free, so I'm grateful for the help you offered today."

Dedue smiled. "It was no problem," he said. "Now, come. I think I can see Dimitri over there."

As the pair of them hurried back towards Dimitri and Annette, Annette dashed towards them, hair askew. "Ashe!" she said. "You wouldn't  _ believe  _ what we heard from the baker, he said that the knight captain-"

Ashe waved his hands frantically in the air. "Quiet, Annette!" he hissed, glancing furtively around the square.

"Sorry!" she replied, her voice dropping down to what could only be described as a loud whisper. "The baker said that the knight captain comes in every day asking if anyone stole something, and gives him money if he says yes."

"He didn't want to talk," Dimitri said with a chuckle, "but Annette referred to me by title and he, ah, got a lot more open to our questions." There was a small blush dusting his cheeks, and he fiddled with the edging of his armour.

"I see," Ashe said, his voice suddenly very quiet. "The knight captain, huh? And he..." He shook his head. "No, no. I can't believe that, I can't-" He bit down on his lip, hard, and Dedue watched as his hands clutched the top of a nearby fence; his knuckles were white.

Dedue stepped forward, intending to lay a hand on Ashe's shoulder. But just as he did so, Dimitri's hand found his arm. "No," he said softly. "Please, let him work this out for himself."

Dedue looked between Dimitri and Ashe, who'd squeezed his eyes shut. His lips moved, but he couldn't work out what was being said. His heart ached to see it, but he could trust that Dimitri knew his friend better than he did; he'd have to leave Ashe to it.

"It's the captain's fault," Ashe said, his voice now audible but still very quiet. "He- he tells the baker to accuse someone of a crime. He blames Yvette for a crime most days, because her mother can't afford to send her to school. Most days, I'm able to prove that she didn't do it, and now... as an apology, he pays to get her out of the house, so Mallory can't vouch for her so easily. He's just-"

Ashe slammed the side of his fist into the wall. "It's so unfair!" he complained. "Every day, I try to do the best I can, and then he just- he's making it worse, all the time, and I'm  _ working  _ for him."

"It's okay, Ashe," Annette said, stepping forward just slightly. "You didn't know until now."

Ashe shook his head. "I should have known," he said. "Every day, I knew that there was something going on, and I always suspected, but- if he's a bad person, and he appointed me as a knight... I'm a bad person, aren't I?"

There was something so fragile in Ashe's eyes as he looked up. Dedue could barely stand to look, and all he could do was shake his head. He didn't know what to say.

Fortunately, it seemed Dimitri had a better idea. "No," he said firmly. "You could never be a bad person, Ashe. You have a keen sense of what is just; it's more that justice cannot be found here." Shakily, Ashe nodded. "If you would be willing... perhaps you could join the three of us. We're searching for justice, in a way."

"I..." Ashe's voice wavered again as he stared down at his hands. "Perhaps you're right," he said. He nodded, seemingly to himself, and when he looked up again there was confidence painted all over his face. "Yes, you're right. I'll come with you."

"Wonderful," Dimitri said, bringing a hand to rest on Ashe's shoulder for a moment. Ashe practically jumped out of his skin, his whole posture straightening out. "Now, let's go and free that poor girl."

Unfortunately, the resolution Ashe carried with him couldn't do much more; when they reached the keep and confronted the knights with the evidence, they were met only with cold looks and a concession.

Yvette's innocence couldn't be doubted, not with the word of the prince on her side. Yet the moment they spoke a word against the captain, any credibility their claims had seemed to evaporate in front of them.

"How dare you?" the captain roared, and Dedue watched as Ashe shrank in on himself. "You're a  _ disgrace  _ to this order, sticking your pretty little nose in where it doesn't belong. There's no nobility in real knighthood, so get out."

Ashe took a few steps backwards, heading towards the door. "Actually, I was going to-"

"Get out of my sight!" the captain snapped. "Don't let me see you here again,  _ Mr _ Ubert. Or any of these friends of yours."

They hurried from the keep without a moment's hesitation; the captain's hand had been worryingly close to his sword's hilt and Dedue wasn’t willing to take any chances. They spared only a moment to dash to the keep's stables, Ashe tacking up his horse faster than Dedue had ever seen from anyone. From there, only one route was possible: getting as far away as they could from the knights' ire.

It was when they passed through the town's gate, the hooves of their horses thundering beneath them, that it happened. Ashe's posture stiffened, just for a moment, and then he sagged in his saddle, hands clutching his horse's mane. "Oh, Goddess," he mumbled, audible perhaps only to Dedue, riding beside him. "What have I done?"

"It is not your fault," Dedue said firmly. "There was nothing you  _ could  _ do, and you prevented many deaths."

"They're miserable," Ashe said. "It's all miserable, and I just... stood there and let them do it, day after day!"

"You didn't know," Dimitri chipped in. "You  _ couldn't  _ know, Ashe. It was just how it works - and how it doesn't, not any longer."

Ashe nodded, his hands loosening in the horse's mane slightly. "You're right," he said, taking a handful of deep breaths before continuing. "You're right. Thank you, all of you."

"It was our pleasure," Annette said, offering the group a smile. "So no more moping, alright? We have a job to do."


	4. And Stick to your Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group move onward to where Mercedes is. There are some difficult conversations to have on the way.

The next length of their journey was long. Dedue wasn't at all familiar with the geography of the Kingdom, but the way the land stretched out on the map held before him told him all he needed to know.

It left a shadow hanging over all of them; as the days marched on, every new stretch of their journey just like the last, Dedue was filled with the crushing sensation that they were somehow wasting time. Every day in the territory they just left, people continued to suffer a never ending cycle of injustice. The same probably happened to hundreds of lives across Faerghus.

This place was not Dedue's home, but his heart ached for those people either way. He couldn't imagine how Dimitri - or any of the others, for that matter - felt about it.

And as it turned out, he didn't have to wait long to catch a glimpse of it. At the end of one particularly difficult day, where it felt like their horses walked at a crawl, Dimitri made an attempt at idle conversation.

"Ashe," he said. Ashe looked up from the pot of food cooking in front of him, an eager expression on his face. "Would you mind if I asked you something?"

"Not at all, your Highness!" Ashe answered, nodding eagerly.

Dedue didn't miss the grimace that passed over Dimitri's face at that, though he didn't know exactly what it meant. "Could you tell me about how the curse functioned? How you passed the days in the same way without realising, that is. Knowing our enemy may be key to our victory."

Ashe nodded, but the enthusiasm on his face dimmed a little. "Of course," he said. "It was... every day, someone was accused of a crime they didn't commit." His hands twisted in his lap. "Normally it was Yvette, but sometimes it was someone else. Normally the same small handful of people, though. Every day, I got the feeling it wasn't fair. And then I'd find out just enough of the truth in time to set them free."

When Dedue looked back over at Dimitri, his whole posture was tense. "And you were never able to discover the full truth?"

Ashe shook his head. "I always doubted myself too much," he confessed. "It was always- I didn't want to distrust my commanders. I really didn't want to believe that maybe the thing I'd worked so hard for wasn't as great as it seemed."

Dimitri nodded again, but there was anger on his face. Ashe shrank back a little, ducking his head so the light of the fire no longer reflected in his eyes. "Knighthood..." Dimitri mumbled, his voice dark. Dedue didn't know if Annette or Ashe could hear, but he certainly could. "What is the use, if it can only cause suffering?"

Somehow, Dedue recognised the tone to his voice, and something told him he should steer Dimitri firmly away from the path of his thoughts. "They wouldn't do those things normally," he tried. "It's just the effect of the curse, twisting it. Once this is over, they won't suffer anymore."

When Dimitri looked up, his eye was full of fire. "I can only hope," he said. "And all these years, I- they've suffered. I should have ended this years ago, you can't just say-" His hands clenched into fists, and then his whole body stilled. Within a moment, Dimitri rose from his position at the edge of the fire, turned on his heel, and left, pushing through the trees beyond.

Dedue looked over at Ashe, and then Annette. Both of them held the same expression on their faces; horror, tinged with regret. Annette's fingertips bit into the palm of her hands, and Ashe's gripped his cup so tightly his knuckles were white.

When they both looked up, there was something unmistakeable in both their expressions: helplessness. They had no more idea as to what to do than Dedue did, but they clearly shared the same instinct - the world around them was dangerous, and far too terrifying to face alone.

"I will go after him," Dedue said eventually. He didn't know if he'd be able to help, but whatever this was, he didn't want Dimitri braving it on his own. Ashe and Annette shot him a grateful look as he too stood to leave the warmth of their little fire.

The dim light of dusk somehow felt even heavier than normal around him as Dedue pushed through stray branches to follow Dimitri's path. His footsteps were heavy enough that they were easy to follow through the snow, another sign that Dimitri didn't quite feel himself. Dedue hadn't been around him for all that long, but he knew Dimitri always tried to be gentle.

After several minutes of following the tracks, the pines thinned out a little, opening out onto a wide expanse. Somehow, they'd ended up at the edge of a cliff; that would explain where the unlocatable river on their map was. Right at the edge, Dimitri stood staring out at the half-night sky, his eyes fixed on the plains below.

Dimitri didn't greet him or even turn around, but when Dedue came to join him, his feet clearing a small space in the snow to sit down at his side, he spoke. "Do you remember what these plains were?" Dimitri asked.

Dedue shook his head. "I'm afraid not." There were far too many lines of half-legible text on that map; he couldn't even hope to remember all of them.

"These are the Tailtean Plains," Dimitri said. "Hundreds of years ago, a battle was fought on this very field between the forces of the Church of Seiros and the armies of the King of Liberation, a tyrant who controlled the whole area of Fódlan north of the Empire."

"Who won?" Looking out over the field, bathed in orange light, Dedue could almost imagine the way blood must have coated the ground. He didn't know the tale, the history, or the players in such an ancient game, but he was familiar with stories of bloodshed.

"Seiros' forces," Dimitri answered, his gaze still firmly fixed on the horizon. "Soon after, Fódlan was unified under the banner of the Adrestian Empire. Several centuries later, the Kingdom broke away, and in time, the Alliance in the east did the same. But this field remains one of the most important in all of Fódlan."

The field in question was completely deserted. There were no settlements anywhere in view, nor anyone moving across any paths. There were just trees, grass, and the endless sunset.

Dimitri sighed, his tale finished. "We're cut off from the rest of Fódlan by the curse," he explained. "Just as I had a duty to rule my people in the past, now I alone can guide them out of this endless torture. I cannot ignore my duty. I apologise for snapping at you, I just... feel strongly."

"I understand," Dedue said, but it didn't sit well with him. He didn't know much about Dimitri's life before all of this, beyond what he'd discussed with Annette, but something told him that Dimitri shouldn’t have to bear this alone. "That doesn't have to be all, though. You should care for yourself as well."

Dimitri's fists clenched at his sides. "There's no room for that," he said. His voice was firm, but there was something sad there too. Dedue didn't doubt he'd heard the sentiment before.

Having heard it before didn't make it any less true. "Maybe not right now," he conceded. "But you should make that space for yourself. Everyone needs it."

Dimitri's fists unclenched slightly, and the sharp line of his shoulders under the cloak relaxed a little. "I understand," he said. When Dedue looked over at his face again, he no longer stared out across the plains. He looked tired. "Thank you for your words, Dedue. I will... work on it."

"Come back to the camp," Dedue said, keeping his voice soft but insistent. Dimitri was calmer now, but they were still at a cliff edge, and he had no doubt that Annette and Ashe were getting worried about both of them. "It's time to rest."

Dimitri looked up at him, his eye filled with something indescribable. "Of course," he answered. Dedue stood first, offering him a hand. Dimitri's was warm when he gripped it; the moment he was on his feet Dimitri pulled away, his hands tucked carefully behind his back.

Dedue didn't know what it meant - if it meant anything at all. But as they walked back to the makeshift camp, he hoped he wasn't imagining the way Dimitri walked a little closer to him than before.

* * *

Dedue didn't know when he fell asleep that evening; sometimes it was hard to tell the difference between sleep and wakefulness when the landscape never changed, always seeping into his unconcious hours just a little.

But he knew when he dreamed of something different. He hadn't realised how constant the soft tones of sunset were until he saw something new. Everything was cold, bright, and terrifying. The snow was white, tinged with grey and brown, and even though it crunched under his feet just as before, it felt different. More immediate.

He was in pain. His head hurt, his limbs hurt. His hands shook. When he tore his gaze from his feet to the sky, it was a wide, terrifying white, blanketed in unfamiliar, heavy clouds.

Dedue turned his head to the left, hearing something move beside him, a childish yet impossibly familiar voice filling his ears. "Dedue? Dedue!"

But before he could lock eyes with the person, the dusk returned. Dedue opened his eyes to the low, warm light of their campsite. There was no bright, expansive sky, and no all-encompassing pain.

Just Dimitri, bundling up the last of a set of firewood for the next time they stopped. He looked over at Dedue as he sat up, his eye full of concern. "Is everything alright, Dedue?" he asked.

Dedue pursed his lips, trying to shake off the last of the feeling. It receded quickly, but a chill had settled in his bones. "I am fine," he said. "I... had a strange dream."

Dimitri nodded, clearly sympathetic. "I can provide a listening ear, if you'd like to talk about it."

Dedue shook his head. "I do not need to," he said. "I don't think I even know what it was."

"Alright," Dimitri replied, sounding a little cheerier. He offered Dedue a small smile, and despite the undeniable feeling of wrongness still in his chest, Dedue managed to reply in turn. "But talking helps to bring my mind back to the real world, so maybe it'll help for you too."

"Perhaps," Dedue said. He didn't know what else to say; he rarely did, around Dimitri.

"Why don't I tell you about Mercedes?" Dimitri asked. "She's the person we're headed to retrieve next."

Dedue nodded. "That would be good," he said. He could argue to himself that he wanted to know because it would be useful in completing their task, but there was a part of him that always relished the sound of Dimitri's voice, the tenderness present when he talked about his friends.

Dimitri smiled again. "She is an incredibly kind and patient person, first and foremost. She's a lot like you in that respect." Dimitri's voice trailed off at that, and Dedue felt his face heat just a little. "She puts herself before others far too much - for her, it's always about the warmth she can offer others."

Dedue went to join Dimitri on the other side of the fire, offering a hand to move the bundle of firewood to the horse's packs. "I can think of someone else who does the same," he said.

It was Dimitri's turn to blush at that, his gaze resolutely avoiding Dedue's as he handed the firewood over. Their fingers brushed, just for a moment, and it felt different to before. Dedue's breath caught in his throat, and he almost fumbled over the bundle in his hands. Just as he managed to get a proper grip on it, Dimitri smiled.

"Maybe I should look at myself through your eyes," he said, a small laugh escaping his lips. "I might be kinder to myself then."

* * *

The small town Mercedes lived in felt pressed in at all sides. As they dismounted and led the horses through the mostly deserted streets, Dedue watched as the townspeople crowded at the windows, watching them pass with fearful eyes.

"Something is wrong here," he murmured, and Dimitri nodded, a sombre look on his face. "Do we know our destination?"

Annette nodded. "Mercie wrote to me with her address a while ago," she said, fiddling with the hem of one of her sleeves. "It would have been a long while ago now, but I doubt that she's moved." She let out a slightly nervous laugh. "She said her home was at the end of the street, made of stone, and she grows little pink flowers in the garden."

It turned out that the house was easy to find, and there were indeed pink flowers growing in the front garden, along with a vegetable patch that took up most of the area. The layout was familiar; almost exactly the same as the one in Dedue's home back in Duscur. It made him smile, despite everything.

The door sprang open almost the moment Dimitri's knuckles grazed the wood. "Hello, hello!" Mercedes said, her voice bright and her smile wide. She embraced each and every one of them as they entered, even wrapping an arm around Dedue as he ducked under the doorframe.

After a moment, she observed him from arm's length. "And who are you?" she asked, her smile not faltering.

"Dedue Molinaro," he answered with a small dip of his head. "I accompany Dimitri."

Mercedes nodded. "Well, it's good to meet you," she said. "Please, get some of that heavy clothing off and we can all sit down and have some tea. How does that sound?"

With his knowledge from what happened at Annette's home, Dedue was admittedly a little wary about accepting an offer from Mercedes. But nothing  _ seemed  _ to be amiss yet, at least not within her home, so he followed the others into a small dining area.

"It's lovely to see everyone again," Mercedes said, making a circuit of the table to pour them some tea. "Ah, my apologies, I didn't boil water for five. Let me go and get some more."

She didn't hurry away in the same way Annette had; that at least set Dedue's mind at ease a little, but he was still wary. There must be something else going on here instead.

When she returned, there still didn't seem to be anything amiss. They chattered away about everything and nothing - Mercedes wanted to know how Annette's studies were going, what Dedue thought of her little town, and whether Ashe's siblings were doing well.

It was... nice. Almost familiar, and yet not quite. Definitely comforting after everything they'd done so far. Mercedes didn't seem stressed, or upset, or anything. At least, not for a while. Not until she started looking out of the window every few moments, seemingly tracking the time from the sky in a way Dedue couldn't.

"It's been lovely catching up with you," she said eventually, her hands tucked very carefully into her lap, "but I'm afraid I'll have to be off sooner rather than later."

"Is there something the matter?" Ashe asked. He must have noticed it too; the way Mercedes' hands shook just a little, the tired look on her face.

Mercedes pursed her lips. "I didn't want to worry you," she admitted, "but there have been a lot of bandit raids recently. They often come around at this time of day, so I should go and see if anyone needs help. It's secure here, though, so you should stay!"

"Nonsense," Dimitri said, standing from his seat. "We will help you. Perhaps with the extra numbers, we can make a difference to this fight and drive them back properly." Dedue knew, in all honesty, that Dimitri probably didn't believe this. But they  _ did  _ need to examine the loop Mercedes and her town were caught in, and this was the best way to do so.

They followed Mercedes through streets that were no longer quiet. At one end of the main road, a whole horde of townspeople stood, wielding half-rusted weapons and hiding behind hastily erected barriers; beyond them, a small number of vicious looking bandits roamed.

Dedue immediately saw a problem: there was no space for any of them to lend a hand with weapons, and he wasn't all that convinced he would be able to make much of a difference anyway. He had a basic awareness that there was strength in his muscles, and he could see the power with which Dimitri moved, but-

The townspeople wouldn't move from their spots. It was all Dedue could do to rush from Mercedes to an injured townsperson and then to another, offering up a clearly limited supply of medicine. The townspeople were thankful, but would not set down their arms even to let Ashe - clearly a trained soldier - take their place.

It was plain for anyone to see that medicine wasn't enough to patch the holes in this defence. Logically, Dedue knew that these people would be alright; they'd managed for what was probably decades without his presence. They'd done this day in and day out until they bled into the ground and they never died, never lost their little home.

That didn't mean he wanted to watch it, didn't mean he couldn't  _ help.  _ A young man who must have only just turned eighteen was right in the line of fire, his hands shaking as one of the bandits approached with an axe that was ready to carve directly through the bags he hid behind.

Dedue didn't think. He jumped forwards, his arm outstretched to push the young man out of the way. He didn't know where he'd end up, with momentum and the changeable movements of everyone else in this world, but hopefully the axe wouldn't cut through anything too fatal.

He didn't quite know what happened next. There was a crash, something that sounded vaguely like a person's voice calling out, and the clash of metal on metal. Dedue's eyesight went dark, and the noise of blood in his ears rushed until he could hear barely anything else.

When he was aware of what was going on, the young man was behind him, sprawled on the ground with surprise in his eyes. Dedue stood crouched behind a ruined barricade, the bandit was flat on his back, and Dimitri stood over them all, his face dark and almost dangerous.

"Dedue." Dimitri's voice was firm, accompanied by a hand on Dedue's shoulder. "That's enough." Dedue moved to shake his shoulder free, but Dimitri's grip remained, warm and pressing. "You don't have to do this. Remember what we said about taking care of ourselves?"

He did remember. He looked back at the young man behind him, and then over to Dimitri in front of him. He very nearly chuckled, but it didn't quite feel like the time. "I believe I said the same to you," he pointed out. Whatever Dedue had just done, Dimitri did exactly the same. He was grateful, of course, but it still worried him.

He shook his head, trying to dispel the vestiges of the panic that seized him just before. It dispersed slowly, but Dimitri's hand on his shoulder grounded him somehow. The world around him started to feel just a little more real.

"You did," Dimitri said, but when he'd ascertained that Dedue didn't plan to do anything rash, he removed his hand. Dedue missed it for only a moment, as Dimitri then offered it to help him up off the ground. "So why don't we say it to someone else who needs to hear it?"

Mercedes wasn't difficult to find; she moved in the centre of the chaos, straying ever closer to blades that could tear her to shreds. She was good at what she did, and the feeble massed forces of the town seemed to come alive at her mere presence.

Less fortunately, she wouldn't listen to them once they were at her side. Dedue tried first, telling her that she wasn't safe; she said that none of them were. She refused to speak to them again until the bandits stopped coming, limping back to the dusky woods with their comrades drooped over their shoulders.

Dimitri tried then, telling her that she would run herself into the ground if she did this for too long. There was only so much faith magic available within her, and if she pushed herself to that limit every day it wouldn't all come back. It could hurt her more than it helped others.

"I know," Mercedes said, her voice small and more than a little vulnerable. The light in her eyes wavered for a moment before she looked up again, her smile renewed. "But I have to keep doing this. If I don't..." She gestured towards the blood on the ground, and all of them nodded. She didn't need to explain.

"I understand," Dimitri said. He paused for a moment. As it stood, there was no way to convince her; whatever they'd managed today, they hadn't been able to solve the problem that kept her here in what was surely an endless loop of conflict and healing. "I am sorry to burden you with another issue, but may we stay the night? If you could point us to somewhere to stay, perhaps-"

"Nonsense," Mercedes said, the strength returning to her voice. "You will stay in my home. There's plenty of space."

So the five of them went back the way they came, moving tentatively through exhausted streets that somehow seemed darker than they had before the battle. There was no change in the sky, Dedue knew, but something had moved nonetheless.

The world worked in strange ways. This curse was no different, it seemed.

Mercedes set all four of them up on the floor of a nearly empty room. Dedue had no idea what it was for or why it was there when every other part of Mercedes' house was filled to the brim with warmth, but he didn't have the knowledge of their host to attempt a guess. All he could do was lay his head down and try to get some rest, swearing that the next day would bring Mercedes freedom from her endless cycle of exhaustion.

His dreams that night were plagued with orange light. It seeped into everything, burning and freezing at the same time, filling up the hollows in his body and sealing over every crack.

He woke feeling slightly off centre, his hands moving through his morning tasks on their own. He stood and packed up his bedding, moving towards the stairs. Then he stopped, running a hand through his hair. He blinked, and some of the fog burned away.

Ah. So that was what was happening. He stood with his hand against the wall for a moment, just breathing. He was Dedue Molinaro. He was here to visit Mercedes with the friends he travelled with. They were travelling across Faerghus to break the curse of the Dusk King. He had no schedule in this place, and no purpose beyond that one.

He breathed in and out again, and the rest of the fog in his mind cleared. He was here for a reason, and he would fulfil that. Whatever his body had just wanted him to do was what the curse wanted, and he didn't need to do it.

Hearing the sounds of stirring upstairs, Dedue turned around and went back to the room he slept in. Just like him, the others seemed bleary, uncertain of exactly what was going on, but it didn't take long to bring them back to reality.

Ashe shivered once he was ready to get going again. "That was unpleasant," he said, rubbing his fingertips lightly against his closed eyes. "I... let's not sleep here again."

Annette nodded. "I don't think I could," she answered. "We might-"

"We might not leave if we do," Dimitri confirmed. Three sets of eyes turned to him, and he fiddled with the hem of his cloak, currently bunched up in his hands. "I don't know exactly how all of this works, but it's clearly trying to suck us in. We don't have any time to lose."

When they went downstairs, Mercedes looked like she'd barely slept, dark circles visible under her eyes. After the battle of the day before, she'd told them that there were several people with injuries that needed overnight supervision, and because of that she'd stay up for at least part of it.

But who knows how long had passed, and how much of it Mercedes had actually spent asleep? Dedue definitely couldn't tell, and there didn't appear to be a clock of any kind in this town. She was exhausted, and that was all he really knew.

"Oh, good morning!" Mercedes said, rubbing at her eyes and poorly disguising a yawn. "I hope you all slept well."

"We did," Annette said, moving forward with a smile. Dedue didn't know exactly what she was going to do, but he got a good idea the moment Annette's hands made contact with Mercedes' shoulders, guiding her away from the door. "Come on, sit down. While  _ I  _ slept well, it doesn't look like you did."

"Oh, it's nothing," Mercedes dismissed, trying to move away from Annette's ministrations. "There was a lot to do, but I'm not tired. I'm used to making the most of rest where I can get it."

"Of course you are," Annette said, patting her shoulder. Mercedes was almost to the table they ate at the day before, and that was when Dedue started to get a better picture of her plan. "So take the chance to get some of that rest now, alright? There's food in your kitchen, I'm guessing."

"I couldn't possibly ask you to-"

"You don't have to ask," Dimitri cut in, taking the last few steps down the stairs and moving to sit directly opposite the chair Annette guided Mercedes to. "We'll do it. I have it on good authority that Dedue and Ashe are both fantastic chefs."

"I'd love to cook for you, Mercedes!" Ashe chipped in, bustling past her to go into the kitchen. Mercedes opened her mouth to object again, but this time no words came out. She looked between the four of them, watching the smiles on all their faces, and then nodded.

"If you'd like to, I'd feel bad refusing," she said, letting out a light laugh as she spoke. "Please go ahead. There are eggs in the cupboard, vegetables in the pantry just through that door there, and I have dough rising by the hearth."

"Thank you," Dedue said, nodding to her once before he got to work. Idle chatter filled the room, and Dedue was content to soak it all up for a while.

"Mercedes." It was a little difficult to hear the sound of voices over the noise of cooking—Ashe had cracked a few eggs into a pan, and Dedue set to cutting up a few tomatoes to press into the dough before they cooked it—but Dimitri's voice carried when his tone turned serious. "May we speak to you about something?"

"You can talk to me about anything, Dimitri," Mercedes answered. The words sounded almost automatic, and something twinged in Dedue's chest, like he'd heard the words before somewhere.

"Even if you won't like it?" Annette checked.

"Sometimes difficult things still have to be said," Mercedes conceded. Dedue tried not to stare, but he somehow knew that her hands were folded into each other on the table's surface.

"You shouldn't put other people before yourself," Dimitri said firmly. The noise in the kitchen was too loud to hear Mercedes' sharp intake of breath, but Dedue knew it was there. "I know how you feel. Sometimes it is tempting to push yourself aside for the benefit of others, knowing that you can do something to help them."

"Of course," Mercedes said. "I've always been taught to put the needs of others first. Selflessness is a virtue, and one I will proudly strive to every day."

At this, Dimitri shook his head. "Selflessness is not self sacrifice," he said. "Selflessness isn't working yourself to the bone, hoping that when the next day comes you'll be better than the day before, knowing that if each day doesn't bring new improvement then it won't be enough. Selflessness is caring about others and seeing how you can benefit them, not hurting yourself more than you would want to see anyone else hurt."

Dedue's hands stilled in his work. Dimitri's voice was... raw. Too raw. Its reverberations ached in his chest, filling him with an indescribable sadness. A feeling of  _ failure,  _ somehow, though he didn't know quite where it came from.

"I..." Mercedes nodded. Her hands fell to her lap, and Dedue moved away from the tomatoes. "People need me," she said softly. "They need me here, because if I don't hurt then they will."

Words bubbled up in Dedue's chest. He couldn't locate where the feelings came from, but he somehow had something to say. "People will always hurt in one way or another," he said. "The best we can do is support them, to try and make sure they do not come to harm. But if you harm yourself, all they learn is that people will bend over to save them, and they should do the same for others. In some ways, that is good. In others, it hurts everyone more than is needed.

"You must be kind to others at all times, and seeing them achieve is worth every moment. But your pain alone will not help anyone, and if you give yourself until there is nothing left, then you can do no more."

Mercedes nodded, her face very still. Slowly, she lowered her head into her arms, pressing her forehead against the smooth wood of the table. "You're right," she said softly. "The more I do, the less I can help, and the more I hurt pointlessly. I just- I just wanted to be able to help these people."

"If you really want to help people, you should come with us," Ashe said. He abandoned the food for a moment, leaving his side of the counter to lay a hand on Mercedes' arm. "We're working to make sure that this can't just... happen over and over. That's what his Highness wants, anyway."

Dedue watched as Mercedes' eyes gained just a little light, her bearing the tiniest bit more confident. "I- yes," she said. "I like the sound of that." Her gaze fell on Dimitri, who nodded. She offered up a small smile. "Maybe I'm... not helping as much here as I thought."

"I know you are helping," Dedue said. He couldn't quite imagine how it must feel to leave a routine followed for a hundred years, but he could sort of understand the guilt Mercedes might feel. He'd felt it himself leaving only vegetables and a lonely little house behind, let alone a town struggling against vicious hordes.

But the loop would persist once Mercedes left it. These people wouldn't die, just as they hadn't in the last hundred years, just as they hadn't when Dedue wasn't there to throw himself in front of the axe for that young man behind the barricade. Mercedes couldn't understand that right now, but it was true.

"If I'm helping, then how can I bring myself to leave?" Mercedes asked.

"Because you can help more elsewhere," Ashe said firmly. "You are  _ invaluable,  _ Mercedes. Wherever you go. And we're aiming to end this kind of suffering. With you at our side, we can do it!"

Mercedes nodded shakily. "Alright," she said. "Yes, I'll come with you."

"Fantastic," Dimitri said, offering Mercedes a hand. She smiled as she took it, and the doubt from before passed in what felt like a mere instant. Her energy returned, and she bustled around the room, collecting up various food items that would be useful for the road ahead. She even wrapped the bread in a cloth, ready to be cooked another time.

"Ah," she said, glancing around the entrance to her home. "I'm afraid I don't have a horse of my own. I wouldn't want to take one away from the town, not when they still have to deal with this every day, but..."

"Of course," Annette said, putting a hand on Mercedes' shoulder. "You don't have to worry about it, Mercie. I'm sure we can share!" Mercedes nodded, her hesitation only fleeting as they returned to the horses.

"You could ride with me for now, Annette," Ashe suggested. It made sense; they were the smallest, and yet when they climbed onto the horse together they still looked a little cramped as Annette tried not to lean into Ashe too much.

"Perhaps we should take turns," Dimitri suggested, and Ashe and Annette both breathed a visible sigh of relief, laughing at each other as they did so. "But for now, let's move on. We can sort it out once we're better rested tomorrow."

As they set off, Dedue expected some kind of outpouring of feeling, just as Annette and Ashe had reacted when they were pulled free of the curse. Yet Mercedes didn't have any of that as they left the little town, carefully navigating the barriers that had been pushed to the side only for now. Instead, they rode quietly, trying to cover as much distance as they could with the energy Mercedes had left.

"Thank you for your words earlier, Dedue," Mercedes said, bringing her horse to ride next to him. Dedue nodded a little stiffly, unsure of what to do in return. "You seem like a very kind and caring young man. I'm glad to see you here at Dimitri's side."

"I'm glad to be here," Dedue answered, returning her bright smile. "It is my pleasure to offer him aid and to be his friend."


	5. Your Friends are Waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their ever expanding group moves on to Galatea, where one of Dimitri's childhood friends awaits. Dedue has complex feelings about his own connection to Dimitri.

When they woke up for their next day of travel, they were confronted with the conundrum of who would share a horse. Annette and Ashe had done so the day before, which meant Dedue or Dimitri would have to share with someone for that stretch of travel - it was only fair.

They ended up bickering about it over breakfast. Mercedes insisted that she should share with someone, but neither Dedue nor Dimitri were willing to let the other take the responsibility of being cramped all day.

In the end, Annette insisted that they pick lots. Dedue's stick was short; so was Dimitri's.

They looked at each other; it was Dimitri who chuckled first. "I hope the horse can take the weight of both of us," he said. Dedue nodded, glancing over to the largest horse; he knew relatively little about horses, but she probably could. "Would you like me to ride in front?"

"I would prefer that, yes," Dedue answered. He'd done more riding in the last week or so than he'd done in the rest of his life (at least, he was fairly sure of that; he had none of the confidence on horseback that would surely come with experience), and Dimitri was surely far better.

As it turned out, this meant that Dedue had to hold on to him. Because if there was one thing he wasn't sure of on a horse, it was his balance. Sliding off would help exactly no one; they'd just have to stop, holding the day's travel up.

Dedue didn't  _ mind  _ the feeling of his arms around Dimitri's waist, not exactly. Dimitri's body was warm and solid, and it wasn't painful to ride with him, nor was it too hot. It was just... 

Dimitri was warm and solid. Very much alive, with his back muscles shifting against Dedue's chest. Once or twice, when Dedue moved, his hands would brush Dimitri's stomach, where he could feel the hard coil of his abs.

Dimitri was not the only one who felt a little warm. Dedue just hoped he’d managed to keep his face straight and prayed to whatever power might listen that Dimitri would not spontaneously gain the ability to read his thoughts about how... how well-formed his body was.

The awkwardness he felt made for a long day - their days of riding were long enough, but with Dimitri's proximity, one problem in particular kept entering Dedue's thoughts.

"Dimitri," he said softly, trying not to think about just how close his mouth was to Dimitri's ear. He could probably feel more than hear his exhale as he spoke. "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine," Dimitri said, shifting slightly awkwardly in front of Dedue. "No different from most days. Why, did you think something would be the matter?"

"You have the tendency to overwork yourself," Dedue said. He was reminded mostly of the words shared with both him and Mercedes over the last few days, but there was also something else, an inclination that came from somewhere he couldn't pinpoint. "We've been riding for a while, and I was worried you may have overstrained your chest."

Dimitri looked down. Dedue couldn't see the blush on his face, but a little of it crept up his ears. It was almost... sweet. "Yes," he admitted, sounding a little embarrassed. "I do have the tendency to do that. But I promise you I'm fine."

"Of course," Dedue said, but he wasn't entirely convinced. He didn't think Dimitri would expect him to be, either. "But for the sake of my peace of mind, will you take a proper break the next time we stop?"

Dimitri let out a halfhearted chuckle. "Yes, I can do that," he said. There was exasperation in his tone, but it sounded almost- fond, Dedue supposed.

No one could see, but he smiled into the evening air. There had been an awkwardness between them before, one that never would have permitted him to say something like that to Dimitri. But over the days of their travel, after the things they'd seen together, they'd settled into something new.

They fit together in a way unlike anything Dedue knew how to quantify. The ways they didn't quite mesh before had melted away, and in their place was something disjointed in a different way. It felt  _ raw  _ \- like understanding Dimitri, but not quite knowing how to put it into words, and connecting their sort-of shared struggles.

It was also the awkwardness of blood rising to Dedue's face, something catching his words in his mouth before he could get everything out. Dedue knew what it was, and he didn't- well, he didn't dislike it. He just didn't know how to deal with it either.

As they dismounted the horse at the end of the day, Dedue realised that Dimitri had never told him he regularly bound his chest. They'd never even spoken about that thing they had in common; Dedue knew, of course, having tended to Dimitri's wounds. But until now, nothing more than tacit understanding had passed between them.

It felt a little eerie when he realised, but not entirely bad. Just a subtle warmth settling in the pit of his stomach; familiarity, perhaps.

-

The next day, it was Annette and Mercedes who shared a horse, leaving Dedue and Dimitri riding separately once more. It wasn't an improvement, exactly, but it was almost a relief. He didn't know if he could keep his thoughts in one place with Dimitri sitting so close to him for the second day in a row.

They had quite a distance to travel to reach Galatea, their next stop in their travels - it was far to the east, and the road ahead was long. Dimitri delivered the news of that early on their second day of travel, bringing his horse close to Dedue's as they moved along the wide forest paths.

"It's unavoidable," he said with a shrug, "but I don't mind. With little else to do, I would say it's- nice to get the chance to talk to you more, Dedue. We don't really get the chance as much as I'd like."

Dedue nodded. The fact that he and Dimitri saw each other every day, spoke every day, and spent extended hours with each other no matter what they were doing, seemed beside the point. "It is good to talk to you too," he replied.

Dimitri beamed up at him, which was the idea; Dedue felt a quiet sense of satisfaction creep up his spine at the sight. "I know we haven't known each other all that long," he said, "but I feel a familiarity between us."

"I understand," Dedue said. Hadn't he thought exactly the same thing only the day before? "I... feel the same."

Dimitri nodded and smiled again, but it faded within a moment. "There is a lot of warmth around me in this quest," Dimitri said, "and it comes from people who care for me a lot. But my life before all this has been lonely, at times."

"I can imagine." Dedue couldn't really imagine it. He'd spent a large portion of his life alone, but he hadn't felt notably  _ lonely  _ as such. Dimitri had grown up as a prince; surely there'd been people around him at all times?

Or maybe that  _ was  _ lonely. It wasn't like Dedue would know - he didn't have an experience that was anything like Dimitri's.

"One day, a long time ago," Dimitri said, "there was- something terrible happened. It was over a hundred years ago now, but it still feels fresh sometimes. I'm glad I have someone like you here."

Dedue had guessed as much; oftentimes, just like on the cliff, there was a melancholy that Dimitri carried around on his shoulders. "I'm happy you have people around you to support you now," he said.

Dimitri's returning smile was soft. "You're a bigger part of that than you might have guessed," he said, a small laugh escaping his lips. It wasn't an entirely happy laugh, but Dedue loved the sound of it all the same. "Perhaps even a bigger part of it than I can understand. I- I feel connected to you, Dedue, if you don't mind me saying it."

Dedue didn't know how to respond to words like that, but he tried to reply with a smile. Dimitri's expression brightened a little, encouraging him. "You feel- exceedingly close to me also."

Dimitri let out a proper laugh at that, one that had Dedue feeling a little like someone had snatched his horse out from under him. "Maybe we knew each other in another life!" he said.

His words hit Dedue like a punch in the chest. The air left his lungs, though he couldn't quite work out  _ why.  _ What was in those words? "Yes," he said with a laugh. "Perhaps we did."

-

That night, Dedue's dreams weren't bright and cold like the last odd dream. The sky was stained red, as was the ground, and there was heat all around him. Flames licked at his clothes and boots, burning away everything in his surroundings. There was a heavy weight on his back and mud streaked all over his face, drying more by the second and freezing his face in a stark expression of horror and pure fear.

The scene shifted, though he wasn't quite sure what it was, other than cold. There was a dull, burning pain permeating through every inch of his being, but he shivered against it. Dedue looked up, and he was alone. The corridor ahead of him was empty - as was the next one, and the next.

Just as he reached the end of the third corridor, turning into a room where he saw a flash of golden light, Dedue's eyes snapped open. For a moment, he couldn't quite work out where he was; there was gold right in front of him, and he reached out. Before his hand could reach its mark, his eyes focused.

Dedue snapped his hand back to his chest, trying to regain control over his breathing. The gold was Dimitri's hair, shining under the low light of sunset. "Dimitri?" he asked softly. Dimitri hadn't been next to him when he laid down to sleep.

Dimitri jerked slightly. "You were tossing and turning," he explained, and if Dedue didn't know better than to hope, he would have thought that Dimitri was blushing. "I was debating whether to wake you up."

"I see," Dedue answered. "My apologies for disturbing your sleep."

"Not at all," Dimitri said firmly. He sat up slowly, left hand rubbing at his good eye. "I rarely sleep through the night. I would have woken soon enough anyway."

Dedue didn't find himself all that surprised by Dimitri's words, but he wasn't  _ pleased  _ to hear them either. No matter how prettily Dimitri dressed it up, he'd lost sleep over this.

And yet, he didn't seem in any way annoyed. Dedue would be tempted to call him a good actor, but he felt like the opposite was truer to reality. Dimitri still smiled very faintly as he looked up at Dedue again. "What was the dream about?" he asked.

Dedue pursed his lips. "I do not think I can say," he said. He couldn't explain it, and when there were things that couldn't be explained in a setting like this, it could never mean anything good. He didn't want to worry Dimitri when there was already so much to consider.

"I see," Dimitri said, his forehead creased into a frown. For a moment, Dedue thought he was going to ask again. Just as he opened his mouth, concern painted all over his face, Annette stirred, stretching her arms wide. Dimitri's mouth snapped shut.

Dedue frowned again, but the moment had passed. Once Annette woke, Ashe followed soon after, and the noise pulled Mercedes from her rest too. The day began in earnest, and the thoughts of his strange dream faded blissfully into the background. He almost hoped Dimitri would forget about it, but a part of him wished that he’d remember. It was unsettling, and Dedue didn't know if he wanted to bear it on his own.

The day progressed with more travelling. The thick forests of Faerghus never seemed to end, but there was a noticeable change in the air as they travelled forwards. It felt a little more brittle, and when they stopped for a short break, the soil felt different. "Has... the weather changed?" Dedue asked. He didn't know that the weather  _ could  _ change in Faerghus - it certainly hadn't so far.

"We crossed the border to Galatea a short while ago," Dimitri said, as if that explained anything. When Dedue looked at him questioningly, he seemed to realise his mistake. "Ah! Of course. Galatea's land is not particularly fertile, and the weather is too dry for food to grow properly. It's enough to get by most of the time, but at others..."

Dimitri shook his head, and Dedue could envision what he was imagining - an endless loop of hungry children, not quite dead but certainly not living, with nowhere near enough food to go around. It was sad, but there was nothing they could do just yet. At least, not anything they weren't already doing.

"How far to the Galatea estate?" Dedue asked instead. Dimitri seemed glad for the distraction, a thin smile forming on his face.

"Not far," he promised. "We have perhaps an hour or two more on horseback until we arrive."

Dedue nodded, and soon enough Dimitri's words proved true. Out of the evening light, a rambling wall appeared, encircling a sleepy town. They dismounted when they hit the town's roads, and Dedue was glad for the quiet - beyond the walls of the houses, he could hear quiet cries. He didn't know what he'd do if he had to face these people directly.

Dedue had been told a little of the person they were here to retrieve - Ingrid, a long time friend of Dimitri's, and the only daughter of the Galatea family. The person who met them at the residence's door was definitely not Ingrid.

"Your Highness, welcome!" The man bent almost in half at the waist, his bow deep. Dedue watched as Dimitri scratched the back of his neck, a little awkward. "Please, come inside. Your companions, too. Is there anything I can do to assist you?"

"There is, in fact," Dimitri said. His voice, too, sounded almost stiff. He was never comfortable in this kind of situation. "Thank you, Count Galatea, for your hospitality, but we're actually looking for Ingrid."

The man laughed. "Of course!" he said. "Of course, of course. That's not a surprise at all, please just follow me."

Dedue exchanged a look with Ashe, who shrugged as Count Galatea turned on his heel and sped off down a corridor. Dimitri followed, with the others trailing after him.

Dedue couldn't help but look around. This was the residence of a Count, but it lacked the lustre of Annette's home, which was a little cluttered but undeniably done so with riches. While the house itself was large, everything looked a little worn around the edges, and every door the Count led them through creaked.

"You will have to excuse our lack of preparedness, your Highness," Dedue heard the Count say just ahead of him. Dimitri bobbed his head in a nod.

"That's quite alright," he said, still not sounding quite like himself. "I'm not here for a banquet, just to see an old friend and ask her a favour. You were not warned of my impending arrival."

The Count let out a nervous chuckle, sweeping his arm towards one final entryway. "Ingrid is out in the training grounds," he said. "And remember, don't hesitate to ask if you need anything at all, your Highness."

With that, he bustled off in the direction he came, slightly faded coattails flapping away. Dedue watched him go, pausing a moment before he turned his attention to the noise in the training grounds.

"No, do it again!" A clear, high voice called, and something in the back of Dedue's mind told him that this was probably Ingrid. "Your form was sloppy."

"But my lady, we've been practising for five-"

"Do you know how long a  _ real  _ battle is?" she asked. Dedue entered the courtyard fully, and what he saw didn't really surprise him; a young woman stood at the head of a small group of soldiers, all of them drenched in sweat and leaning against each other. "When I climbed Conand Tower to root out the bandits there, it felt like we were walking in a loop for years. You need stamina to survive on the battlefield."

"My lady, at least let us stop for water, I-"

"Not a chance," she said. "If you didn't bring a waterskin with you today then you don't get any until we're done here. Come on!"

"Ingrid?" Dimitri's voice was back to normal when he called across the training grounds, and the change in the scene before Dedue was immediate.

"Your Highness!" Ingrid snapped to attention, as did all the other soldiers, each of them as rigid as a board and looking directly at Dimitri. In an instant, one of Ingrid's knees dropped to the floor, and she held her lance out in front of her, her hands shaking very slightly. "My apologies, I didn't realise you were coming."

"That's quite alright," Dimitri said, his posture now just as stiff as the soldiers in front of him.

"No, it isn't!" she said, her voice emphatic. "We're not ready for you. We've been training, of course, but these efforts aren't enough, in fact they're more pathetic than anything. I've been doing my best, but-"

"Ingrid, it's completely-"

"-they're not really up to scratch, and I've been training them from the beginning but it feels like we've all stopped improving and now we're just making a fool of ourselves-"

"Ingrid, please-"

“My sincerest apologies, your Highness,” she said. She clearly wasn’t listening to him, and Dedue watched as the line of Dimitri’s shoulders grew harder by the word. “I should not have been so forward in addressing you. You are soon to be King, after all.”

Dimitri shifted from one foot to another, his face twisted into a grimace. “I hold no real station in the Kingdom as of right now,” he said. His hands clenched into tight fists. “This is, among other things, why I am here.”

Ingrid let out a muffled noise that held a distinct note of despair. “I am afraid I must turn you away, then,” she said. “If you have need of soldiers, you will find no good here. We will not be of any use to you, frail as we are. We’re not good enough to serve under the banner of the Kingdom.”

Ingrid went on and on, berating herself and the soldiers seemingly without end. As she spoke, Dimitri grew visibly more and more uncomfortable, until it was honestly surprising that he hadn’t opened his mouth to stop her once more. Had Dedue been in his shoes, he was fairly sure he would have fled by this point.

"Dimitri." Dedue stepped forwards, letting his right hand fall on Dimitri's shoulder. Dimitri jolted, immediately standing more firmly upright.

He didn't look at Dedue for a moment, but he shifted his shoulder under his hand. Dedue kept it there. "Ingrid," he said, his voice a little soft, "would I be able to persuade you to join me as an equal? I don't ask you to meet any kind of military standard - just this."

Ingrid paused for a moment, and when she did, Dimitri turned his head a little.  _ 'Thank you,'  _ he mouthed, and Dedue smiled back at him, warmth blooming in his heart. Everything felt still, if only for a moment.

In the next, Ingrid shattered the feeling. "Absolutely not," she said. "I cannot- your Highness, you are the  _ prince.  _ I cannot treat you as an equal in good conscience."

Dimitri's smile turned tight, but he persevered. Dedue hoped the hand on his shoulder gave him strength, because it was making  _ him  _ feel a lot of things he wasn't sure he should. "I want your friendship, Ingrid, not your fealty," Dimitri swore. "That would mean far more to me, and it is something you can offer that many could not claim to. Please?"

Dedue didn't know Ingrid, but he could recognise the expression on her face as one of complicated emotions, each one battling to take the fore. For some reason, he empathised. "I... am unsure if I could do that," she said.

Dimitri nodded. "Perhaps, then, you could join us just for an afternoon on those terms," he said. Ingrid looked a little less hesitant. "We can do something as a group, like we used to as children. If you can be persuaded to come through that, I will be glad - if not, I will leave you to your drills in peace."

He closed off his suggestion with a smile, and Ingrid's frown wavered more. "Alright," she said. "But just one afternoon, and nothing more."

"Agreed," Dimitri said. "So, Ingrid - would you be willing to lead us to the stables?"

Ingrid picked out two of the best horses in the stables so all of them could ride comfortably. It wasn't exactly Dedue's first choice for an afternoon of leisure - it was almost entirely the same as what they'd been doing for the last while, just with someone who hadn't agreed to go all the way with them just yet.

Still, Dedue had to admit that there was some merit to Dimitri's suggestion. It was clear that he knew Ingrid well, and the way she brightened once she moved up into the saddle was undeniable, a tension easing from her shoulders that Dedue had barely known was there.

Mostly, he watched as they talked, with the other three bringing up the rear on their long route into the woods. Dimitri and Ingrid led- there was no need to check for directions or work out where they should go next; it was a familiar route for them.

Dedue didn't know Ingrid, though he felt he was getting to know her rather rapidly that day, and he definitely recognised the sight of the curse slowly faltering. Her gaze seemed to clear as they rode, and her smiles came more readily the more she spoke to Dimitri.

Dimitri, too, seemed happier - Dedue heard Ingrid pull several laughs from him, and the joy in his voice was more evident than anything Dedue had heard before. It struck a chord in his chest, one that was half warmth and half the sickly, sapping feeling of guilt.

He couldn't make Dimitri feel that way. He felt like he  _ should  _ be able to, like he should find it easier than he did. He could imagine all the ways to make Dimitri's face split into a smile like that, but he'd never quite worked up the resolve to do it.

Dimitri laughed again, and Dedue's breath caught in his chest. No; he shouldn't even think about how it was terrible that he couldn't cause that. What mattered was that  _ someone  _ could - what mattered was that Dimitri could be happy.

And happy he was, all while they completed the little circuit of the forest that Dimitri and Ingrid must have rode a hundred times in their childhood. As they drew their horses back to the manor, Dedue knew what came next.

"I think you were right," Ingrid said, her eyes shining and her hair windswept as she dismounted from her horse. She offered their whole group a bright smile. "I... should not have been so hard on myself earlier. Or the others." Then, her gaze drifted to Dimitri. "Today was fun. It's better when I don't put you on a pedestal, and I'm... sorry. For doing it in the first place."

Dimitri smiled that same wonderful, captivating smile that Dedue was fast realising he was in far too deep for. "I'm happy to hear you say it," he replied. "I meant everything I said earlier about friends."

"I know you did," Ingrid said, patting her horse's neck as she looked away from him. "Now, come on your- Dimitri. And everyone. Didn't we have somewhere to be?"

The dusk stretched on nearly endlessly before them as they continued down the road, now heading north. But Dimitri's smile shone the way forward to a brighter tomorrow, and Dedue couldn't wait to see it dawn.


	6. For you to Awake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Dedue moves with the group on to Fraldarius territory, Felix is nowhere to be found. Along the way, he finds something else.

With all of them clustered around the fire, their evening breaks started to get quite lively - and crowded. Conversation always carried them through the evening meal and onto the point where they decided to go to sleep, and this night was no different.

Ashe let out a short 'pfft' of laughter when Ingrid's spoon landed in her bowl, splashing soup into her face. "Ingrid, you're so clumsy!"

Ingrid shot him a halfhearted glare. "I'm hardly the clumsiest person here," she countered.

Ashe nodded. "Of course not," he said. "That would have to be Annette." Annette's reply was an indignant snort, but she didn't object to the accusation. "Why I remember, back at the Academy..."

At that point, Dedue did his best to tune out. It wasn't that he didn't  _ want  _ to get to know these people, it was just that they knew each other so well. They fit together because they had history together. History he didn't share.

That night, just the same as most of the nights that came before it, Dedue couldn't block out the sound of the voices around him. "And then, when Annie was  _ still  _ stumbling through the bushes, the Professor arrived!" Mercedes said, and the whole group collapsed into laughter.

Dedue made an attempt, forcing a light chuckle from his throat. It  _ was  _ funny - he couldn't deny that. But it felt wrong. Like there was a part missing, somehow. He could almost see someone standing at the edge of the tale, waiting in the wings with a quip that would make everyone laugh again.

But there was no one else. There wasn't an extra line, and the figure stepped back into shadow.

Dedue couldn't understand it, nor could he make sense of it. The only thing that could logically follow was the thought that he was jealous; that he felt like he was meant to be there, even when he couldn’t have been. But all of this happened decades before Dedue was even born.

He didn't want to feel jealous. He hated feeling jealous - it was an ugly feeling, entirely unlike the person he tried to be. He couldn't keep negative thoughts at bay all the time, but jealousy was one of the things he wanted to banish from his being entirely.

And yet he couldn't, and there was one very big reason for that. The reason wiped a hand across his mouth as he finished up the last of a soup he couldn't taste (where Dedue had learned that, he couldn't quite place) and smiled, his face alight in the bronze of eternal dusk. What could Dedue do but yearn to be closer to him, to mean more to him than he did already?

Dedue tried to clamp down on the thoughts just as he had before, but it was no use. The feelings he held in his chest for Dimitri weren't something he could just dismiss or ignore anymore, at least not within himself. He couldn't imagine a world where Dimitri hadn't come into his life, and the thought of going back to that time where everything was peaceful but always the same was unthinkable. And Dedue had no idea what to do about that.

Dedue didn't think he could pursue his feelings for Dimitri. He'd said it himself; he had a duty to his people, to those he cared about, and a Kingdom that desperately needed to heal. All of that was far more important than the way Dedue felt when he saw a light spark in Dimitri's eyes; he couldn't ask for Dimitri to take precious time out of his day to care about Dedue in the same way.

Understanding his feelings was a hollow realisation. It changed nothing, because Dedue felt the same way as he had before, and Dimitri didn't know anything new about it; he never could.

So Dedue watched the burning sun half-hidden behind the trees, and he kept the feeling locked away all through the time they spent resting, then into the travels of the next day. He didn't have an easy place in this group in the same way the others did, and for that reason he could only stay back, not trying too hard to place himself where he didn't belong.

As they spent more and more time riding beyond Galatea and into Fraldarius territory, however, Dimitri seemed ever more determined to engage in conversation with him. Dedue could do nothing but oblige - he wanted to listen. Wanted to chart the way Dimitri's voice rose and fell, blending with the soft sounds of animals in the undergrowth.

"I fear the next part of our journey will be difficult," Dimitri admitted, keeping his voice low as the pair of them rode at the head of the group. "I do not wish for the others to get discouraged, but- know that we may be trying for a while. Please, for your own sake, I would ask you to be on your guard."

"I understand," Dedue said, but he didn't. He didn't know if he wanted to hear all the details of how Dimitri had thought particularly deeply about their next stop on the road.

"But it will be worth it." Dimitri barrelled on, unconscious of Dedue's apprehension - as he wanted him to be. He didn't want Dimitri to adjust what he spoke about just because Dedue couldn't keep these feelings at bay. "Felix is my oldest friend. We do not always see eye to eye, but his perspective is as valuable as his words are sharp."

Dedue nodded. He didn't know Felix, couldn't put any kind of context behind the words Dimitri spoke, but he trusted them. If Felix meant a great deal to Dimitri, then regardless of Dedue's own feelings or the warning about a struggle that might lie ahead, he wanted to see them succeed soon.

There was a small part of Dedue that wondered if, perhaps, the sooner this got done meant that he might be able to have Dimitri more to himself again, or at least get to know him a little better. This gruelling quest to cross Faerghus was exhausting, and he wanted a break, wanted Dimitri to take a break. He wanted to spend that time together.

The need ached in a little pit in his stomach, the place where all his bitter feelings were piling up. All he could do was keep them close until they could disperse, and if the space he needed to do that involved Dimitri achieving his goals, he could only be thankful for it.

* * *

Just as with their arrival in Galatea, Dedue could tell that the man who opened the door to greet them at the Fraldarius keep was not Felix. He was an older, tired-looking man, who greeted Dimitri with a warm hug and a look mixed with equal parts warmth and sadness.

"It is good to see you, your Highness," the man - Duke Fraldarius, Dedue soon gathered - greeted, dipping into a low bow when he released Dimitri from his embrace. "Would I be able to trouble your party to join this old man for an evening meal? The hour for such activities approaches."

Dimitri paused, glancing between their group. Dedue nodded along with the rest; he didn't see any harm in indulging the man's request. "Of course," he said. "We would be happy to come in if we are welcome."

"Always," Duke Fraldarius replied, holding open the door for them to enter. "It has been far too long since you visited last - I have missed seeing your bright face as you cause mischief in my halls."

To Dedue's delight, Dimitri's cheeks turned a little pink. "I think you may be referring to something far earlier than my most recent visit," he said.

Duke Fraldarius laughed. "Perhaps, perhaps," he said, leading them down a handful of corridors before sitting them down at a huge, grand dining table. Servants appeared almost immediately, which should not have surprised Dedue as much as it did; the Fraldarius family were clearly far richer than the homes of the nobles Dedue had visited thus far. "But you must indulge an old man in his stories."

"You're hardly an old man, Lord Rodrigue." It was Ingrid who piped up this time, looking a little awkward as a basket of bread rolls was placed in front of her.

"That's not what I recall you saying when you were five," he said, answering her words with a mild smile. His tone remained polite, but now it was Ingrid's turn to blush, and Dedue found himself copying the man's smile.

The idea of sharing a meal with a noble had admittedly intimidated Dedue when he first heard the suggestion, but  _ this _ was something undeniably familiar to him. Rodrigue was the most at ease here, sitting as he did at the head of the table in his home, and he seemed to delight in sharing every story of Dimitri and Ingrid's childhood with their group.

And, to his credit, the stories were amusing - as was watching Dimitri shrink a little in his seat from the good-natured teasing. It was nice to hear about the kind of person Dimitri used to be; an image soon developed in Dedue's head of a young man who was more energy than propriety, with gaps in his teeth and scuffs on his knees.

But then the stories moved on, and the amused warmth that filled his lungs filtered away, replaced with something dark and cold. "That isn't to say that Dimitri gained complete control of his strength the moment he reached his teens," Duke Fraldarius said with a chuckle. He nudged Ashe, who jumped, and then continued. "Why, once when he was- oh, fifteen or so I believe, it feels like so many years ago now- he was training with Felix and..."

Something thick built up in Dedue's throat, but he didn't know what it was. He blinked once, twice, and while Rodrigue's mouth continued to move, whatever Dedue almost wanted to say didn't surface. "I don't remember who else he trained with, alas - but his Highness fought both of them at the same time, and as the bout reached its end, the lance practically disintegrated in his hands! We were picking splinters out of his gloves for hours."

Duke Fraldarius kept speaking, and the conversation continued to move, but Dedue couldn't focus on it anymore. Something felt  _ wrong  _ here, but he couldn't piece together what it was. There was no rhyme or reason to it, just- a blank spot, but not, because Dedue had nothing to add to this. He shouldn't, anyway.

Dedue forced himself to push the feeling away as the meal came to a close; he had to focus on the present, and with that came paying attention to their goal rather than little stories. He opened his mouth to speak, wondering if Dimitri had been brought off track by the tales, but Dimitri got there before him.

"Pardon me for asking, Rodrigue," Dimitri said, "but I was wondering why Felix didn’t join us this evening. I know he isn't one to take a meal formally like this, but I would rather like to speak with him."

Duke Fraldarius pursed his lips, taking a sip from his goblet before speaking. "Felix is fighting bandits," he answered. His brow furrowed, and his gaze seemed very far away; Dedue was reminded vividly of the state of siege Mercedes' town had suffered. "He's been fighting bandits for a while. They're quite a problem these days."

"Thank you, Rodrigue," Dimitri said. His voice could only be described as gentle, perhaps even regretful, as he spoke once more. "I am sorry to leave you so soon, and I am very grateful for your hospitality, but I think we should leave as soon as possible. I wouldn't want to outstay our welcome."

"You could never," Duke Fraldarius replied. "But I understand why you would like to move quickly. Felix is capable, but sometimes..."

Dimitri's mouth quirked into a small smile. "I know," he said. "Thank you for understanding. If you don't mind, we'll take our leave now."

Here, Duke Fraldarius paused, folding his hands into his lap. "May I ask for your time for just a little longer?" he asked. "I would sorely like it if you came with me for the time being."

Dimitri glanced across to the rest of them, but no one moved. Even Ingrid stayed frozen, her eyes carefully downcast. The weight of history hung heavy in the air, and eventually Dimitri nodded. "Of course," he said, moving to stand.

As he did so, Dedue pushed his own chair back. "I will come with you," he said. He looked over at Rodrigue, who shot him a strange expression; it wasn't hostile, but it wasn't something Dedue could quite interpret either. He didn't think Rodrigue was dangerous, but it would put him more at ease to be at Dimitri's side. Just in case.

Rodrigue led them down a series of winding corridors, out into a courtyard of mixed grey and white. It seemed almost untouched by the perpetual sunset, long shadows stretching across the series of headstones.

Each one was immaculately tended, but one in particular seemed to have received the closest attention. A bouquet of blue flowers sat in a glass jar just beyond them.

Dimitri's breath audibly caught in his throat. "Rodrigue..."

"What remains of Glenn rests here," he said, one hand brushing the top of the gravestone. "There is little I can do about the state of the world from here, and so much that I am powerless to act upon. But I can visit him every day, and I hope that through my attention and thoughts, he can rest in pride. I also hope that he's watching down on us all, protecting you and Felix until the day you can both return here. Safely."

Dimitri nodded. Dedue snuck another glance at him; his gaze was downcast, his hands clenched in the fabric of his cloak. He wasn't too wary of something like this making him too emotional to continue - if there was one thing he could not deny, it was that Dimitri deserved this moment to feel.

And yet, at the same time, Dedue couldn't help but be concerned. Meaningfully or not, everyone they encountered in this twisted Kingdom had, in one way or another, tried to keep them in place, draw them into the spell. It would be better for him to cut this short. "Felix will return back to you soon enough," Dedue said. "Once we move on from here, we'll head straight to him, and the sooner we go, the sooner he will return safe."

Dimitri nodded, a little light returning to his eye when he faced Dedue once more. "Yes, Dedue is right," he said. "I am deeply sorry that we have to cut our time together short, Rodrigue, but this is for the best."

Duke Fraldarius' smile was small and sad, but undeniably there. "Of course," he said. "I understand. Thank you for indulging my wish anyway; I hope to see you all back again soon."

"Who knows," Dimitri said, "perhaps the next time we see each other will be in Fhirdiad. There's quite the occasion coming up."

At that, a spark lit in Duke Fraldarius' eyes. "It would be my pleasure to see such a thing," he said. "It would make me sincerely happy to see that day dawn."

His mood visibly brighter, Duke Fraldarius led them back the way they came, taking them on to the stables where their horses had been able to rest for a short time. "Felix is likely quite a distance from here," he explained. "Perhaps three days on the northern road. Travel safely."

"Thank you," Dimitri said, and for a moment he paused, looking back towards the main Fraldarius keep. Something sad entered his gaze for just a moment, but it vanished in the next. "Onwards, everyone. We have a lot of ground to cover today."

Dedue smiled and kicked his horse into action once more. He pretended not to see when Dimitri shot several glances back at the amber-soaked castle, unable to quite understand what it all meant.

* * *

That night, Dedue dreamt of funerals. He wasn't convinced he'd ever attended one - maybe once when he was small, when he didn't understand the enormity of death.

This time, he saw many, and the weight of oblivion pressed on his heart. He stood in a field, away from the crowds that laid countless flowers on barren earth. He stood in a cathedral, a building larger than anything he'd seen before, with his hand on the arm of another. He stood in a little graveyard before a half-erased stone, surrounded by crowds of people. All of them watched a sentinel of an individual whose name itched at the edge of Dedue's mind.

Most of all, he dreamed of endless grief. His own, but also Dimitri's. He dreamt of long, cold nights sitting in front of a fire that burned but could not warm. He stood at the window, watching water stream down outside and listening to cries within.

He heard curses, half-formed or perhaps just hidden from his ears. He recognised the tone if not the shape of each sound, and it filled him with nothing but fear and endless despair. Dimitri's voice was angry, and when Dedue turned to see his face, he was afraid of what the sight would bring.

And then he woke. The skies no longer alternated between the stark brightness of a too-cold yet sunny day and the bottomless darkness of sleepless nights; instead, the dusk returned.

In truth, it was not particularly comforting. Not until Dedue's eyes searched their camp, full of sleeping bodies, and found Dimitri's form.

Maybe it was the vestiges of that terrible vision still clinging to his bones - normally Dedue wouldn't dream of doing such a thing - or maybe it was the memory of Dimitri's concern the last few times they spoke of strange dreams, that spurred him to act. Dedue found himself at Dimitri's side, gently shaking his shoulder to rouse him.

"Dedue?" Dimitri's voice was soft with sleep, providing a balm to the anger that rattled around in Dedue's dream. Memory? He didn't know. "Is everything alright?"

"It will be," he said, the revelation letting most of the tension out of his lungs. Most of it. "I had a... concerning dream." He felt almost silly now he was saying it, but Dimitri's face softened further rather than hardening at the knowledge that he had been woken for such a trivial thing.

"Shall we go a little ways out of camp?" Dimitri asked, pushing back the blanket that covered him and moving to stand. Dedue paused for a moment, then nodded. "Lead the way."

It wasn't hard to find another, smaller clearing just a short distance away. They'd be able to hear if anything happened, but for now it seemed they were thoroughly alone.

Dimitri sat down on the grass, dusted with just a little frost, and Dedue joined him, tipping his head upwards to catch a glimpse of the sky peeking through the trees. It looked the same as always, but Dedue still couldn't help but find the perpetual twilight just as beautiful as it was eerie.

"Have you ever tried to count the stars?" Dimitri asked. Dedue shook his head; he'd always considered himself a down to earth kind of person, not wasting too much time looking at something he couldn't reach.

Then again, maybe he couldn't say that anymore. He'd spent a lot of time looking at Dimitri lately.

"Not before," he answered, "but I'd be willing to try now."

And so they sat for a short while in complete silence. The evening calls of a handful of birds chattered around them, and the breeze blew softly through the trees, but beyond that it was just the two of them and the expanse of half-formed stars in the almost-night sky.

"You know, Dedue," Dimitri said. Dedue had given up counting at sixty three, but Dimitri must have kept going until then. He wondered how many stars he'd counted. "Rodrigue today was different to the man I knew before the curse descended, yes, but not as different as everyone else. He was perhaps... only slightly more melancholic than the man I am familiar with."

Dedue couldn't pretend to know exactly what had happened in Faerghus, but he knew that loss ran through that family. Perhaps it was the same loss he'd seen in the dream. "Grief is hard." A simple statement, perhaps, but eminently true.

"Mmm," Dimitri replied, his eye back on the stars again. When Dedue's gaze dropped, he saw the way Dimitri's fist clenched once, twice, three times against the ground before he spoke once more. "Do you have friends or family at home?"

It seemed a strange question, but the answer appeared without Dedue even thinking about it. "No," he said. He had family, but they were not at home. They hadn't been at his home for a long time. "But... a long time ago, I had a family. And someone precious to me, but-" The words, with a meaning he couldn't fathom, poured forth. "I don't remember his face anymore. It's been a long time."

"Ah," Dimitri said. He sounded almost disappointed, and Dedue only had one way to make sense of that. He didn't know if he could quite bring himself to believe it. "I understand."

Dedue closed his eyes for a moment. When he reopened them, nothing in front of him had changed, but watching the stars, still shining stubbornly in the evening sky when it felt like the sun would never let them show their true power, brought him the courage he needed.

"I do not have that family by my side anymore," he said. He turned to try and meet Dimitri's eye, but found him gazing stubbornly skywards. "But I would quite like for you to fill that hole in my life. If you would permit it."

Dimitri still didn't look in his direction, his voice thick with emotion when he replied. "I fear I cannot," he said. "In this place, I feel like a mere shadow of a man."

Dedue didn't know exactly where the boldness came from, but he couldn't stop the next words from falling from his mouth. "Then would you let me bring the light to you?"

Now, finally, Dimitri turned to look at him. His eye was alight with tears and joy in equal measure, and the blue was more beautiful than it ever had been before. His smile was so bright, so wide. "If it would bring you joy, I would ask for nothing more."

"Then may I ask for something else?" Dedue asked. He reached forward, taking Dimitri's hands in his, and leaned in. Dimitri nodded, his smile stretching wider.

Dedue had no point of reference to understand whether the kiss was good. He thought he must have kissed someone once, because the feeling of Dimitri's lips against his was familiar. He kissed Dimitri once, twice, and then a few more times for good measure, trying to lose himself in the feeling.

Dimitri  _ did  _ care. He wanted him. He said- he said that making time for Dedue would make him happy. He said that he wanted  _ Dedue  _ to be happy.

When they went back to the camp, their hands still intertwined, Dedue thought that he might still be dreaming. How else could something like this be real?

Still, the warmth of Dimitri's hands against his as they tried to catch another few hours of rest before the others awoke felt like something he couldn't imagine. This was as real as anything else.

* * *

When they moved on the next day, Dedue felt confident in riding next to Dimitri again. They often did, but it was usually Dimitri who initiated the action.

For a long while, Dedue had felt that Dimitri should get the chance to catch up with his old friends. Now, he realised that maybe he didn't need to, and that Dedue wasn't stealing time away from him.

They didn't talk much as they rode. Dedue wanted to, and knew that he should, really, but it didn't feel like the right time just yet. The words they shared the night before left little to the imagination, and Dedue knew where he stood  _ emotionally  _ with Dimitri, but what it would mean going on into the future... well, Dedue felt that was something that could better be discussed when they were no longer on a quest to save the Kingdom.

When a real night fell upon the Kingdom, finally, he would talk to Dimitri about what all of this meant. When that happened, there would be plenty of time for words.

For now, they had to keep quiet. On and off, they'd heard fighting somewhere beyond the road. The sounds of the forest weren't loud around them, but wherever the fighting was, it seemed to get swallowed up by the trees.

It took hours to find what they were looking for, but eventually they did. Dedue knew Felix the moment he saw him- a lone figure dressed in blue, almost dancing with a sword in his hand, running loops around a truly ridiculous number of bandits. Bodies scattered the ground, forcing their group to dismount; just how long had he been fighting here?

It didn't look like Felix was losing ground, but there was no time to lose. Dedue lifted the axe from his back and joined the battle, hot on Dimitri's heels.

Felix didn't say a word to them as they fought. He was clearly aware of their presence, avoiding them carefully as they cut through the remaining bandits, but he didn't acknowledge their presence beyond that. His focus was slightly eerie, unlike anything Dedue had seen in Faerghus thus far. He couldn't tell if the amber glow to his eyes was the natural colour, reflecting the evening light, or something else entirely.

Dedue breathed a sigh of relief when he could finally heft the axe back onto his back, checking in with Dimitri the moment the battle was done. Dimitri smiled back at him, wiping a little sweat off his brow. Dedue itched to take a handkerchief to his face himself, wiping off the grime of the fight, but not here. Not in front of so many people.

But where Dimitri smiled, Felix did not. "What the fuck are you doing here?" he asked, his harsh words directed straight at Dimitri.

Dedue tensed, just about fighting back the urge to stand in front of Dimitri. There was clear hostility in Felix's words and stance; it was unusual. While they hadn't been universally  _ welcome  _ wherever they went, none of Dimitri's friends had ever greeted him with hostility before.

Dedue was starting to understand why Dimitri said before that getting Felix back from this curse might be difficult.

"It's alright," Dimitri murmured, grasping Dedue's wrist for just a moment before he let it drop. It left Dedue's skin burning, but most of all it left him reassured. Dimitri at the very least  _ thought _ he knew what he was doing, and that was enough for Dedue to have faith in him.

"If you are sure," Dedue said, and Dimitri nodded.

"Are you not pleased to see us, Felix?" There was a taunting note to Dimitri's voice that was unusual to hear. Felix, however, seemed to recognise it instantly, his muscles tensing further.

"Why would I be pleased?" he asked.

"We only came to help," Dimitri shot back. "Is there something wrong with that?"

"It was completely unnecessary," Felix answered, twitching slightly. Dedue was still wary of the sword he carried, wickedly sharp and pointed towards them, moving from one person to the next like Felix made no distinction between friend and foe. He hadn't even acknowledged the person he didn't know in the crowd - if he'd even realised Dedue was there.

"Fighting alone is unproductive in the extreme," Dimitri chided. "Doing so seemingly endlessly is more so - do you know how long you've been out here?"

Felix shrugged. "It doesn't matter if there are still foes to fight," he said. In a way he had a point, but Dimitri continued.

"Your father is worried for you," Dimitri tried. At that, Felix's expression shifted into something akin to a snarl.

"And what right does he have to be so?" Felix asked. "He'd be happy if I died out here, protecting the people. If he really wants me back, then he should acknowledge that he's just like you - neither of you really give a damn for the people you claim to wish to protect. You'd let them all die - no, you'd kill them if it suited you."

Dimitri flinched at that, his whole body recoiling from the words. Dedue wouldn't listen to it any longer.

"Dimitri cares for his people," Dedue said. From what he'd seen, Dimitri cared about  _ everyone.  _ The way he treated Dedue was a clear sign of that, and he doubted it would be different for anyone else. If Felix refused to see that, that was his problem. "Of that, I have no doubt."

"If you don't doubt, then you haven't seen Dimitri at his worst," Felix replied instantly, turning on the heel of his boot to face Dedue directly. "You cannot speak for his nature if you don't know the meaning of my words."

There was a lot Dedue wanted to say in reply. A protectiveness surged up within him, telling him he absolutely could not stand for the dismissal in Felix's words, the sheer lack of understanding that permeated every syllable. He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped short when something warm touched his arm. Dimitri's hand gripped tightly, stroking a pattern into the surface of Dedue's sleeve.

Dimitri shook his head, his hand still steady on Dedue's arm. "Felix is right," he said softly. "You have not seen the worst of me, nor do I have any wish for you to. However, Felix, I am not the terrible person you think I am. My request is genuine, borne of concern for my people in much the same way that your activities here are."

In a single, abrupt movement, Felix turned away from them. "Say what you like. No matter which pretty words you use, I will not abandon the people of Fraldarius," he said. And then, without a moment's hesitation, he slammed his sword into the ground, straight through the chest of one of the bandits' corpses.

"Felix!" Annette called, horror in her voice; Dedue understood. The man was dead, and there was no sense in desecrating the body. 

But then Dedue, despite himself, looked a little closer. No blood came from the body, and when Felix withdrew his sword, placing it back in his scabbard, there was no stain. The wound in the bandit's chest closed as if it had never been there at all.

"They don't die." Felix's voice came out grating, angry. "I cannot leave. I cannot win. I'm not strong enough."

This was when Dimitri stopped. His mouth opened and closed once, and then again. He looked between the body and Felix, and more than once Dedue watched Dimitri's eye drift towards the treeline; the sun could not be seen between the density of the trees, but they all knew where it was.

But one thing was clear: Dimitri didn't know what to say next. He didn't have an answer to this.

In truth, Dedue didn't know what Felix needed to hear. For each of their stops along the way so far, there was something in particular. Sometimes he'd been able to pick up on what it was. Sometimes he hadn't. But he had no desire to watch Dimitri struggle through, insulted time and again. It wouldn't get them anywhere.

"You cannot win this battle," Dedue said. Felix turned to him once more, his gaze sharp. "But there is more than this battle in the world. You fight them every day, but you  _ know  _ nothing can make you triumph over them. So why are you even here?"

"Who are you to ask me that?" Felix asked, pointing the tip of his sword to Dedue's chest. Dedue very nearly laughed; there was no way to pierce his armour from here, and no way for Felix to  _ reach  _ the weaker point at his throat.

Besides, he didn't think Felix would strike. He had a feeling. "I am someone who happens to know there is more than your sword and the strength with which you wield it." Felix's expression wavered, but he didn't step away. "If you abandon your post and come with us then you can help end this once and for all."

Felix visibly bristled. "No," he said. "I won't."

"Why not?" Annette asked. "You said yourself that you can't win here, and just fighting while knowing you can't win... this isn't like you, Felix."

"Yes!" Ashe chipped in. "The Felix I know wouldn't face the bandits head on every day, hoping that the next would bring their final defeat. He'd find another tactic, a way to circumvent this entirely. So I think you can."

Felix breathed heavily, his eyes flipping wildly between each of them in turn. He looked like a cornered animal, and Dedue hoped it was the kind of cornered that would prompt him to make the right decision, rather than attacking them, running away, or both. Just as he reached once more for his sword, Dimitri stepped forward.

"The others are correct, Felix," he said. There was a gentleness to his voice Dedue could admire if not understand; Felix had been nothing but hostile. "You are better than this - smarter and kinder. You are more valuable than the sword you wield or the strength you can obtain, whether in combat here or elsewhere."

"Dimitri-"

"No, listen to me. You do not have to like me, nor do you have to listen to me alone." Dimitri's voice shook a little, and Dedue wished he could pinpoint the exact emotion. "But I would urge you to do what you know is right. Even if you hate chivalry, if you hate  _ everything  _ you think I stand for, surely you can agree that there is no use to you being here. Trust your intelligence and come away from this place."

Felix's chest heaved as he turned back towards Dimitri, his stance tense. Dedue nearly stepped forwards to restrain him; perhaps his attacks had no effect on the bandits, but he wouldn't let him test if the same was true of Dimitri. Slowly, however, Felix sheathed his sword, stepping back very slightly.

"Fine," he said. His eyes were downcast.  _ "Fine,  _ I'll move on with you." There was a bitterness in his tone, an anger he made no attempt to disguise. It was completely unlike the way they'd brought everyone else away from their curse, and at every moment Dedue wondered if the facade would crack away, if Felix would react in the way Ashe did when taken from his futile task.

He didn't, but as the rest of the day drew on, Dedue could recognise a different edge to him - a kind of fondness, a warmth in the way he interacted with the others that hadn't been there before. Once, the hint of a smile. They'd succeeded.

Dimitri seemed lighter as they moved on, watching with an amused smile on his face as Felix grudgingly accepted a horse from Annette, who moved to ride with Mercedes. That was something Dedue could empathise with, even if he couldn't understand anything else about exactly what had happened that day.

Maybe he couldn't quite bring himself to fathom what the people from Dimitri's childhood meant to him, and he couldn't deny that some of the things he felt when faced with discussion of them made Dedue feel a little off. But with the smile that now graced Dimitri's face more easily than before, Dedue could at least manage to enjoy that happiness without even a hint of jealousy.

When they rode at the back of the group, Dimitri positioned himself close enough that his fingertips could brush Dedue's as they travelled. It felt like something truly precious to behold.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! This fic will update weekly on Thursdays until it's done (and then there'll be a follow up epilogue in a second fic in the series, so keep an eye out for that too!). I hope you enjoyed, and please consider leaving a kudos/comment if you did :)
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/samariumwriting)  
> [promo post for this fic](https://twitter.com/samariumwriting/status/1362457673828982785?s=20)


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